
Class 



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Copyright N" 

COPVKIGHT DEPOSm 




NAPOLEON AND THE QUEEN OF PRUSSIA AT TILSIT 
PLACE, IN EASTERN PRUSSIA, THE TREATY OF PEACE BETWEEN FRANCE AND RUSSIA, AN» 
ALSO BETWEEN FRANCE AND PRUSSIA WAS SIG' ED, JULY 7th 1807 




NAPOLEON CROSSING THE ALPS 




LORD NELSON CARRIED BELOW ON THE ''VICTORY. 



GOO. I'VE DONE I 



Makers tTb WORLD'S History 

AND THEIR 

GRAND ACHIEVEMENTS 

CONTAINING 

GRAPHIC ACCOUNTS OF MEN AND WOMEN WHOSE DARING 
DEEDS HAVE GIVEN THEM WORLD-WIDE FAME 

COMPRISING 

HEROES OF LAND AND SEA 

INCLUDING 

PIONEERS AND THEIR THRILLING ADVENTURES; NAVAL AND 

MILITARY COMMANDERS; liXPLORATIONS IN THE TROPICS AND 

POLAR REGIONS; HEROINES OF THE BATTLEFIELD AND 

HOSPITAL; LIFE SAVERS ON OUR TEMPPISTUOUS 

COASTS; JUVENILE HEROES. FLTC, ETC. 

By Henry Davenport Northrop 

Author of "Grandest Century in the World's History;" "Excelsior Writer .^^d Speaker;" 
"World-Renowned Authors and their Masterpieces of Poetry and Prose," Etc. 



Embellished with Hundreds of Superb Phototype and Lin»i Eagrav^n^s 



NATIONAL PUBLISHING CO. 

23.5 TO 24.3 South American St. 
PHILADELPHIA, PA. 






LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 

. JAN 6 1904 

\ Copy^ght Entry 

,Ki>vV *»- 'I* J 

CLASS * xXc,No. 

IP tT/ Xj 

COPY 3 



D. Z. HOWELL 

IAN OF CONGRESS, A 



PREFACE 



MEN and women who perform noble and heroic deeds merit the 
admiration of all intelligent people. This work contains the bril- 
liant records of the world's heroes and heroines, and pays them 
the honor of being the makers of history. It tells the absorbing story 
of their struggles and sacrifices, their devotion to duty and splendid 
triumphs. 

The work begins with Pioneer Heroes. Daniel Boone, with only 
his rifle for a companion, has thrilling adventures with the Indians; Kit 
Carson shows himself to be a heroic leader and guide. John C. Fre- 
mont plants the Stars and Stripes on the highest peak of the Rockies, 
and earns the proud title of "The Pathfinder." These are the heroes of 
the wilderness, our nation's advance guard, preparing the way for civil- 
ization. 

In the part on Naval Heroes the great "Masters of the Sea" are 
grouped together, and graphic accounts are furnished of their heroic 
acliievemeuts, including Paul Jones, Lord Nelson, Commodore Perry 
Farragut, Cushing, Dewey, Schley, Wainwright, Sampson and many 
others. Their personal heroism is the wonder of all readers, and the 
theme of song and story. Among Military Heroes the first is our own 
"Immortal Washington," followed by Putnam, Ethan Allen, Nathan 
Hale, Moll}' Pitcher, Napoleon, Duke of Wellington, Grant, Meade, Lee, 
"Stonewall" Jackson, Sherman, Sheridan, Roosevelt, and other heroic 
patriots whose majestic figures are seen through the hot hail of battle, 
"contending for an idea." 

Let it be understood that the object of this superb work is to afford 
examples of men and women wlio stood at the post of duty in spite 
of sacrifices and dangers, and command the world's admiration. 



4 PREFACE. 

Brave souls they were who have lifted the veil from unknown coun- 
tries and shown the world the marvels of the "Dark Continent," and the 
realms of eternal snow and ice. Livingstone, DuChaillu, Stanley in the 
Tropics, and Franklin, Kane, Peary, and others, in the Arctic regions, 
are magnificent heroes of Exploration. Their exploits are fully recorded. 
Obstacles confronted them, but they did not halt ; dangers beset them, 
but thiy faced them with dauntless courage; often their lives were in 
peril, but they pressed on, and to these brave explorers we are indebted 
for all we know of the dark lands of the tropics and the frozen mysteries 
of the polar world. 

Noble women have followed recent wars, and by their gentle minis- 
tries have saved the life of many a poor soldier, and have comforted the 
dving moments of others. Florence Nightingale on the blood-stained 
fields of the Crimea ; Clara Barton, Annie E. Wheeler, daughter of 
General "Joe" Wheeler, and others in our civil war and war with Spain, 
and the grand host of women who have performed deeds worth}- of 
ministering angels, illumine the glowing pages of this sumptuous work. 

Their smile cheered the wear}' sufferers of the hospital and the field 
of carnage; they whispered words of comfort to the dying; men who 
had fought and bled kissed the shadows of the grand heroines as they 
passed. The reader follows their experieuces with wonderful interest. 

In addition to these, the reader is charmed with the record of 
toils and sacrifices on the part of such moral heroines as Frances E. 
Willard and Ellen M. Stone, captured by Turkish brigands. 

All honor and praise to the dauntless men and women who save the 
lives of those imperilled by storm and shipwreck, such life savers as 
Grace Darling, Captain James, and many others. Crowns are not good 
enough for their reward. Through storm, angry waves and darkness, 
this work tells how they hurry to the rescue. 

This magnificent work is a splendid record of the world's heroes and 
heroines. It ought to be the companion of ever}- person in oiir country. 
It is worthy of a place in every American home. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

Daniel Boone. 
His Early Eife — Famous as Sharpshooter — Captive among the Indians — 
Adventures on the Frontier — Capture of Three Girls bj' the Savages 
— Dangers and Trials of the Settlers — Heroism of a Little Gar- 
rison — Boone's Life Saved by a Noted Spy — Wounded in a Desperate 
Fight — Adopted into an Indian Family — Defense of Fort at Boones- 
borough — Victory after a Fearful Siege — Boone's Last Days — Grand 
Pioneer 17 

CHAPTER II. 
Kit Carson. 
Famous Trapper and Guide — Daring Exploits in the West — Encounters 
with the Indians — A Picturesque Horseman and Hunter — Capture 
of Large Herds of Cattle — Trading with the Indians — Lucky Escape 
from Climbing Bears — Receives a Painful Wound in the Neck — 
Pursuit of Horse Stealers — Deadly Shot in the Nick of Time — 
Return to the Home of Boyhood — Enthusiastic Welcome — Fremont 
Secures Carson for a Guide — Splendid Achievements on the 

Frontier 62 

CHAPTER III. 
John C. Fremont. 
Styled ''The Pathfinder" — -Ignorance of the Public Concerning the 
Great West — Expedition of Hardy Explorers — Friendly Meeting 
with the Indians — Crossing the Rocky Mountains — Lakes and 
Canyons — ^Interest in Fremont's Discoveries — Terrible Journey of 
Forty Days— Explorer Becomes Renowned — Promoted for his Grand 
Achievements — New Routes Discovei'ed to the Pacific Coast — High 
Honors Bestowed on Fremont — Nominated for President So 

CHAPTER IV. 
Captain John Paul Jones. "^ 
Hero of a Desperate Fight— Captured Valuable Prizes — Severe Gale- 
Exploit of a Cutter — Gallant Young Lieutenant Dale— Warning 
Given of a Hostile Force — Brave Crew — Killed by Bursting Guns^ 



6 CONTENTS. 

Runs Ship ou the Euemy— Vessel Badly Shattered— Brave Repl)^ 
of the American Commander — Ships Supposed to be Sinking — 
Great Loss of Life on Both Sides— Medal Awarded to Jones by Con- 
gress — Astonishing Deeds 97 

CHAPTER V. 
Admiral Lord Nelson. 

Far-famed Hero of Trafalgar — Appointed to an Important Command- 
Battle of Cape St. Vincent — Cruises in the Mediterranean — Battle 
of the Nile— Nelson Promoted for His Brilliant Victories— Hot Pur- 
suit of the French Fleet— Presentiment of Approaching Death — 
Fast and Furious Battle of Trafalgar— Wonderful Nerve of the 
Dying Hero— Mourning for the Masterof the Sea— Strong and Orig- 
inal Genius- Called by Tennyson the Greatest Sailor 125 

CHAPTER VL 
Commodore Stephen Dec.\tur. 

Hero of Tripoli — Son of a Prominent Naval Man— Officer on Shipboard at 
the Age of Nineteen — Embarks in a Dangerous Undertaking — Enters 
the Harbor of Tripoli to Rescue an American Ship — Enemy Thrown 
into a Panic — Great Personal Heroism — Narrow Escape from Death 
— Our Naval Power a Surprise — Presented by Congress with a 
Sword— Sad End of a Gallant Career. 142 

CHAPTER VH. 
Commodore Oliver H. Perry. 
Hero of Lake Erie— Born to be a Sailor— Extraordinary Valor in Battle 
— Offered Services to His Country — Leader of an Important Expe- 
dition — Ships in Line of Battle — Murderous Fire by a Whole Bat- 
tery — Almost a Complete Wreck — Gallant Lieutenant Struck Down 
by a Shot — Perry Pushes Off in an Open Boat — Loud Cheers All 
Along the Line — Enemy's Ships Haul Down Their Flag — " Met the 
Enemy and They are Ours"— Saved by a Woman's Prayers- 
Perry's Personal Appearance T48 

CHAPTER VIII. 
Commodore Thom.\s M'Donough. 
Hero of Lake Champlain — Young Officer Severely Wounded — Line of 
Battle Formed— Loud Cheers when a Rooster Crowed — American 
Ships Badly Damaged — Manoeuvring for Advantages — Lamentable 



CONTENTS. 7 

Destruction of Life — Vessel Riddled b}' Over a Hundred Balls- 
Gallant Conduct of American Officers — M'Donougli's Splendid Skill 
and Bravery — Victory Receives Universal Praise i68 

CHAPTER IX. 

Buchanan and Worden. 
Heroes of the Merrimac and Monitor — Great Naval Battle — Monster 
Fitted to Create Terror — Impenetrable Coat of Mail — Sinking of the 
Ship Cumberland — On Fire in a Number of Places — Merrimac 
Unable to Get Near Land — Arrival of the Monitor — Singular Look- 
ing Vessel — Commander Worden — Monitor Begins the Attack — 
Battle Royal Between Giants — David and Goliath Among Warships 
— Shots that Produced Startling Effects — Little Lion of the Navy — 
Fight Revolutionized Naval Warfare 183 

CHAPTER X. 
Admiral David G. Farragut. 
Hero of New Orleans and Mobile Bay — At School when a Boy in Wash- 
ington — Commander in the Mexican War — Master of Details of 
Seamanship — Established Navy Yard in San Francisco — In Com- 
mand of the Steam-sloop-of-war Hartford — Battle of Mobile Bay — 
In the Rigging of the Hartford — Weeps at the Loss of His Men — 
Splendid Public Reception — Grade of Admiral Created for Farragut 
— Heroic Commander — Thorough Scholar 200 

CHAPTER XL 
Commander William B. Cushing. 
Birth and Early Training — Story of the Albemarle — Parrot Rifles and 
Dahlgren Guns — Directions for the Combat — Shot that Went Clear 
Through — Monster Anchored and Guarded — Bold Attempt to Cap- 
ture a General — Cushing's Report of His Famous Exploit — Air 
Thick with Bullets — Conspicuous Bravery of a Naval Officer — 
Cushing Promoted for Gallant Conduct 207 

CHAPTER XII. 

Admiral George Dewev. 

Hero of Manila — Parentage and Early Education — Anecdotes of Young 

Dewe}' — Encounter with a School Teacher — Naval OflScer Under 

Farragut — Saves Life of a vSailor — Made Commander of Asiatic 

Squadron— Battle of Manila — Every Spanish Ship Destroyed — 



8 CONTENTS. 

Cool and Undaunted in Battle — Presented by Congress with a Medal 
and Sword — Personal Traits and Characteristics 202 

CHAPTER XIII. 
Lieutenant Richmond P. Hobson. 
Narrow Entrance of Harbor of Santiago — Hobson's Bold and Dangerous 
Plan — Names of the Heroes — How the Signal Was to be Given — 
Hobson's Last Directions — Merrimac Lost Her Rudder — Soldiers 
Firing fioni the Cliffs — Every Man Obeyed Orders — Heroic Conduct 
of American Sailors — Hobson and Men Saved by Spanish Admiral 
— -Types of the Whole American Navy 234 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Admiral William T. Sampson. 

Renowned Naval Tactician and Commander — Highest Rank at Naval 

Academy — Cool Intrepidity in Danger — In Command of North 

Atlantic Squadron — Brilliant and Interesting Record — Planned the 

Famous Naval Battle of Santiago 249 

CHAPTER XV. 

Admiral Winfield Scott vSchley. 

A Popular Hero — In Command of Gunboat in Civil War — Voyage to 

North Polar Regions — Made Commander of the Flying Squadron — 

Superb Courage and Cool Head — Spanish Fleet at Santiago — Great 

Naval Victory — Schley a Fine Representative of the American Sailor 

— Many Gallant Exploits 256 

CHAPTER XVI. 
Commander Richard Wainwright. 
Destruction of Cruiser Maine — Waiuwright's Faithful Services — Every 
Inch a Sailor — His Personal Appearance — Fighting Not a Safe Busi- 
ness — Desperate Race of Spanish Ships at Santiago — The Little 
Gloucester's Part in the Battle — Sinks Two Spanish Vessels — Re- 
ceives the Surrender of the Spanish Admiral — Modest Officer of 

Peerless Bravery 266 

CHAPTER XVII. 
Joan of Arc. 
Contest Between Kings — Maid of Orleans — Places Herself at the Head 
of an Army — Awakes Enthusiasm Among the Soldiers — Gives 
Orders in Name of Heaven — Appeared on a Beautiful Black 



CONTENTS. 9 

Horse — Regarded as Invincible — A Decisive Victory — Coronation of 
Charles VII — Joan Wounded — Popular Tide Turns Against Her — 
Mockery of a Trial — Convicted and Suffers Death at the Stake. 274 

CHAPTER XVIII. 
George Washington. 
Hero of the American Revolution — Dutiful and Affectionate Son — Master 
of Military Strategy — Defeat of General Braddock — Commander-in- 
Chief of American Army — Battles and Reverses — Washington the 
Main Stay of the Patriots — His Brilliant Victories — Help from 
France^Surrender of Cornwallis — Independence Won after a Long 
and Bloody Struggle — Washington the Hero of the Hour — Elected 
First President — Second Term as President — Immortal " Father of 
His Country." 294 

CHAPTER XIX. 

General Israel Putnam. 
Parentage and Early Life — New England Farmer — Large Wool Grower 
— Sly Old Wolf — Putnam Shows His Bravery by Entering Wolfs 
Den — Captured by Indians in French and Indian War — Rescued from 
Being Burned Alive — Leaves Plow in the Field for Bunker Hill- 
Wonderful Courage — Execution of a Spy — Leader in Many Battles 
— Plunge on Horseback Down a Precipice — Thrilling Deeds and 
Example — Honors Freely Bestowed on " Old Put." 294 

CHAPTER XX. 

Colonel Ethan Allen. 
Hero of Ticonderoga — Boston Besieged by Twenty Thousand Men 
— Assault With Eighty-Three Soldiers — Patriotism of the Americans 
— ''In the Name of the Great Jehovah and the Continental Con- 
gress"— Allen Sent to Canada — Captured and Held as a Prisoner 

— Finally Exchanged— Graud Type of Heroic Souls 337 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Sergeant William Jasper. 

Hero of Fort Moultrie — Curious Fort — Regiment of Famous Riflemen 

— British Fleet in Charleston Harbor — Furious Engagement — 

Standard Shot Away — Flag Replaced by Jasper — Storm of Shot and 

Shell — American Shots Very Destructive— Jasper Presented by 



10 CONTENTS. 

Governor Rutledge With His Own Sword — Gallant Services Under 

General Marion. 343 

CHAPTER "XXII. 
Captain Nathan Hale. 
Noble Specimen of a Young Man — Officer in Revolutionary Army — Sent 
Out as a Spy by Washington — Captured and Sentenced to Death — 
Receives Ignominious Treatment — Courageous Bearing Under 
the Gallows — Regrets He Has Onh' One Life to Loose for His 
Country — Compared by Depew with Andre — Monument to Hale in 

His Native Town 352 

CHAPTER XXin. 
MoLLv Pitcher. 
Heroine of the Battle of Monmouth — Laundry Women in Washington's 
Army — Husband an Artilleryman — Shot Down in Battle — Molly 
Springs Forward and Takes His Place at the Gun — Fought to the 
End of the Battle — Admired for Bravery — Presented by Washington 
With Commission of Sergeant — Granted Half Pay During Life 

— Her Monument at Carlisle. 357 

CHAPTER XXIV. 
Napoleon Bonaparte. 
Marvelous Military Genius — From an Obscure Corporal to a World 
Renowned Emperor — Commander-in-Chief of Italian Army at the 
Age of Twenty-Six. — In Paris — French Army — Series of Remark- 
able Victories — Coronation as Emperor — Terror of His Name — 
Disastrous Campaign Against Moscow — Amazing Command Over 
Men — Battle of Waterloo — Napoleon's Sun Goes Out in Darkness 
— Banished to St. Helena — His Death — Removal of His Remains to 

Paris — Splendid Tomb of Napoleon 361 

CHAPTER XXV. 
Duke of Wellington. 
Hero of Waterloo — Battle that Changed the Map of Europe — Features 
of the Battlefield — Furious Charges — "Up, Guards, and at Them." 
British Cavalry — Napoleon's Old Guard — Honors for the " Iron 
Duke " — Noble Character — Renowned Achievements — Distinguished 
in Peace as Well as in War — Great Public Demonstration at Fun- 
eral — Sarcophagus in Cr3?pt of St. Paul's 374 



CONTENTS. H 

CHAPTER XXYI. 

General Andrew Jackson. 

Hero of New Orleans — Character as a B03' — Leader Among Plaj-mates — 

In the Army — Ordered to the Gulf of Mexico — Battle of New 

Orleans — Masterly Defenses — Firm and Resolute as President — 

Received Title of '" Old Hickory"— A vSelf-Made Man 388 

CHAPTER XXVII. 
General T. J. ("Stonewall") Jackson. 
Son of au Engine!- — Cadet at West Point — Handsome and Animated 
Face — Careful in Little Things — Commander u[ a Brigade in Our 
Civil War — Silent as a Sphynx — Brave as a Lion — Helps to Defend 
Richmond — Jackson in the Marj-land Campaign — At Chancellors- 
ville — In an Exposed Position — Wounded by His Own Alen — Died 
from Pneumonia — Symptoms of Pleurisy — '' Let us Pass over the 
River and Rest Under the Trees." 398 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 
General George G. Meade. 
Hero of Gettysburg — Illustrious Grandfather — Meade's Education — At 
the United States Military Academy — Leader in the Mexican War — 
Employed in the Construction of Lighthouses — Commands Second 
Brigade of Pennsylvania Reserves — Brigadier General of Volun- 
teers — At Battles of Mechauicsville, Gaines's Mills and Glendale — 
At Second Battle of Bull Run — Drove Everything before Him at 
Fredericksburg — In Command of the Army of the Potomac — Great 
Victory at Gettysburg — Promoted to be Brigadier General in the 
Regular Army — His Name Held in High Honor 406 

CHAPTER XXIX. 
General George E. Pickett. 
Splendid Type of Hero — Man for Grand Deeds — Casts His Lot with Vir- 
ginia — Brigadier General — At the Carnage of Seven Pines — Game 
Cock Brigade— Pickett Severely Wounded — Ready to Perform His 
Duty — Desperate Assault — Appalling Carnage — Wild Yells of Defi- 
ance — Men Riddled with Grape Shot — Field Strewn with the Dead— 
Pickett Retires to Richmond — One of the World's Greatest Cavalrj^ 
Commanders 413 



12 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XXX. 

General Philip H. Sheridan. 

Daring Cavalry Commander — Promoted for Efficient Services — Com- 
mands a Division in Army of the Cumberland — At Battle of Stone 
River— "Here Are All that Are Left."— At Battle of the Wilder- 
ness — Enemy Routed and Scattered — " Face the Other Wa}^, 
Boys." — Made Major General in the Regular Army — Personal 
Gallantry — Hero of Remarkable Exploit — Commands Department 
of the Gulf — Entitled to Respect and Admiration 421 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

General William T. Sherman. 

Member of a Distinguished Family — Graduate of West Point — Scholar 
and Soldier — Engaged in Various Pursuits — Brigadier General of 
Volunteers — Goes to Defense of Memphis — Promoted for Gallantry 
at Vicksburg — Great March to the Sea — Capture of Savannah — 
Receives Surrender of Johnston — Quiet Life after the War — Goes 
on the Retired List — Admired by Friends and Foes Alike 428 

CHAPTER XXXII. 
General Robert E. Lee. 
From Well Known Family — Felt Bound by His State's Act of Seces- 
sion — Opinions Concerning It — Important Battle — Successful Plan 
of General Lee — His Military' Tactics — Battle of Antietam — Capture 
of Harper's Ferry — Operations Around Fredericksburg — " Fighting 
Joe Hooker " — Attacks Grant with Smaller Force — Tried to Save 
the Lives of His Men — Defeated at Gettysburg — Duty His Watch- 
word — Beloved by Associates 438 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

General Ulysses S. Grant. 

Hero of Federal Arm}- — His Career at West Point — In the Mexican 
War — In Service at Various Places — Hardware and Leather Clerk- 
Raised Company of Volunteers — Colonel of an Illinois Regiment- 
Capture of Forts Henry and Donaldson — At Corinth — Commander- 
in-Chief — Vast Plans for Campaigns — Aided by Able Generals — Final 
Campaign — Receives Surrender of Lee 447 



CONTENTS. 13 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 
President Theodore Roosevelt. 
Famous Leader of tiie Rough Riders — Belongs to Distinguished Family 
— Education at Harvar din the New York Legislature — Police Com- 
missioner — On a Western Ranch — Assistant Secretary of the Navy 
— His Career in Cuba — Nominated for Vice-President — Noble Bearing 
When McKinley was Assassinated — Administration Signalized by 
Important Measures — Popular Hero 457 

CHAPTER XXXV. 
DuChaillu, Livingstone, Stanley, Franklin, Kane and Peary. 
Paul DuChaillu — Explorations in Africa — Discovered Animals and Birds 
— First Explorer to Capture a Gorilla — Encounter With a Savage 
Beast — David Livingtone — Renowned Medical Missionary — Travels 
in Africa — Discoveries of Great Importance — Henry M. Stanley — 
Finds Livingstone —Adventures in the Dark Continent — Public 
Welcome on His Return — Sir John Franklin — Hero of Arctic Dis- 
covery — Efforts to Find Him and Afford Relief— Elisha Kent Kane 
— Went in Search of Franklin — Renowned for His Achievements 
— Lieutenant Peary 465 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

Florence Nightingale, Clara Barton, Mrs. Joseph Hawley, Etc. 

Early History of Miss Nightingale — Member of a Wealthy Family — 
Terrible Sufferings of Soldiers in the Crimea — Goes with a Band 
of Trained Nurses — Idolized by the Sick and Wounded — Long- 
fellow's Beautiful Tribute to Her — Clara Barton — Heroic Services 
in Our Civil War— Ministering Angel in Many Battles— Joins the 
Red Cross Relief Corps — In Europe — Her Work in Cuba — Harriet 
F. Hawley — Excellent Work Among Wounded Soldiers — Annie E. 
Wheeler— Daughter of General "Joe" Wheeler— A Natural Nurse 
— Well Known in War with Spain — Appreciated Services 522 

CHAPTER XXXVIL 
Heroes and Heroines of Life Saving Service. 
Dangers of the Great Deep — Story of Grace Darling — Great Admiratior 
for Her Heroic Act — Feted by Titled and Wealthy Persons — Captain 



14 CONTENTS. 

Joshua James — Saved Over Oue Hundred Lives — Wreck on Massa- 
chusetts Coast — Heroes of Monomoy — Boston's Liberality 57S 

CHAPTER XXXXIU. 
Model Heroism. 
Frances E. Willard — Family History — Career as a Teacher — Her Work 
of Reform — Founder of Woman's Temperance Union — Her Brilliant 
Gifts — Ellen Stone — American Missionary in the East — Kidnapped 
by Turkish Brigands — Her Recover\ — Sammy Belnap — How He 
Helped " Old Put "—A Juvenile Hero 589 




I -.1 i: \L STONEWALL" JACKSON 
THE FAMOUS CONFEDERATE CCMMANDE8 




NERAL GEOHGE G. MEADt£ 




DUKE OF WELLINGTON 




HEROISM OF COLONEL GAZE AT THE BATTLE OF INKERMANN 



PIONEER HEROES 

AND THEIR 

THRILLING ADVENTURES 

CHAPTER I. 

DANIEL BOONE. 

HIS EARLY LIFE — HOME IN THE WILDERNESS — DANGERS AND HARDSHIPS. 
BATTLES WITH THE INDIANS — WONDERFUL ESCAPES FROM HIS FOES. 
HEROIC LEADER OF CIVILIZATION — HIS ROMANTIC HISTORY. 

THE uanie of Daniel Boone, as one of the pioneers, lias gone around 
tlie world. Long ago it was celebrated wherever men admired 
courage, or loved to read stories of individual sacrifice and daring. 
Captain Cook had sailed around the globe, bringing home with him 
accounts of men that were scarcely' known in the popular imagination ; 
but Boone set out with calmness, as if he were obej-ing a religious 
inspiration, and buried himself in the wilderness. It required great 
resolution to do what he did ; and yet it seemed to come to him as easily 
as play to a child. 

Daniel Boone was born in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, iu the year 
1 735) "'1 the nth of February, and was nearly three years youngei. 
than Washington, at the time of the Revolutiou. He was a bo] of 
remarkably good constitution, which was about the best inheritanct 
his parents could leave him. At three vears of age he removed, with 
the family, to what is now the city of Reading, Berks County — then, 
however, but a meagre and exposed post on the outskirts of the wilderness. 
The Indians threatened the peace of the settlement at all times. It was 
not safe to go out of the reach of the dwelling, uuless precautions were 
taken against sudden attacks from the red men. Ambushes were likely 
to be sprung upon the settlers on every side. 

It was in a school of danger like this that Boone, then scarcely 
more than a child, received his fi'"st le.'jsons iu life ; and it may be 
2 17 



18 DANIEL BOONE. 

believed they were nigged and lasting ones. There he learned all about 
the tricks and traits of the Indians. The talk was chiefl}' upon them 
and their wily habits. He learned the dangers of the life his parents 
led, and was, at the same time, taught to love perfect simplicity. 

FAMOUS AS A SHARPSHOOTER. 

Of course he learned to use the gun as soon as he had the strength 
to carrj- it about with him. He became an expert marksman very earl}-. 
Sharp shooting, in fact, was necessary almost to his existence ; and if not 
so at the time, it became so in a great many startling adventures after- 
wards. As he grew up, his love of hunting and solitude became more 
and more noticeable. 

He would go off alone iu the woods, with nothing but his gun for 
company, all day. Man}- a stor}- is told of his wonderful feats, such as 
the number of animals he brought down with his unerring bullets, or 
the fierce and successful encovinters he was wont to have with the den- 
izens of the forest. The whole settlement looked upon him with pride, if 
not with hope ; for they saw in him those shining qualities that give 
lasting fame to the frontiersman and pioneer. 

Having acquired the fame of a hunter, it was natural enough that 
he should think of no other occupation in life. So he soon began to grow 
restless under the restraints of home, and finall}' went out from beneath 
his father's roof and biiilt a little hut in the forest, where he played the 
hermit and woodsman to his heart's content. The wild beasts roamed 
all around him by day, and their bowlings made a dismal concert for 
him at night. He was alone ; yet the solitude never became oppressive 
to him. He had 3'earned for just such a life since he began to know^ 
what life was worth. The walls of his hut were himg around with skins 
of animals, trophies of his skill and faring. 

Thinking to better their condition, the Boone family, in 1753, 
moved to North Carolina. Here young Daniel Boone lived until he 
arrived at manhood. Aboiit this time great events were transpiring in 
the world, and grander ones were preparing. The French and Engli.sa 



DANIEL BOONE. 19 

were at war with each other, and the contest was transferred to this 
continent, where it was waged with terriiic fnry. It was along throiigh 
these years that Israel Putnam was getting his valuable experience as a 
soldier in the neighborhood of Lake George, fighting bravely against the 
French and Indians. Washington, too, was schooling under Braddock 
in the Western wilderness, having already acquired the quick eye and 
firm foot, in his perilous enterprises as a surveyor in the depths of the 
forest. 

Daniel married Rebecca Bryan, the daughter of a worthy neighbor, 
and with his young bride set out to make a home for himself in the 
wilderness, some distance from the place where the Boone family resided. 
Here they lived a life of solitude, surrounded by Indians and wild beasts, 
their cabin being the only one for a long time in that part of the Yadkin 
\'alley. Boone's love of the wilderness not being sufficientlv gratified 
here, he planned an expedition into Kentuck}', then almost unknown. 
In June, 1769, he halted with five companions on the Red River, a branch 
of the Kentucky. 

PARTED IN THE \VILDERNESS NEVER TO MEET AGAIN. 

For a long time, matters went on swimmingly. They were becom- 
ing more and more accustomed to their new life, and even began to calcu- 
late upon the propriety of returning to North Carolina for their families. 
Fearing nothing from the approach of the red man, they presently forgot 
to take those precautions which were, in fact, essential to their daily 
safety, and so invited dangers when they might just as well have repelled 
them. It was a fatal mistake for this little party of pioneers to separate ; 
yet they were thoughtless enough to do so, and the most disastrous con- 
sequences followed. The}- divided up — one party being composed of 
Stewart and Boone ; the other four men went exploring in another 
direction. Henceforth their ways diverged forever. Neither party saw 
the other again. 

As Boone^h^f, .'•.iiiiself narrated, the Indians surprised him and his 
companion when they ought to have been on the watch, and carried them 



20 DANIEL BOONE. 

off prisojiejs. This was an entirely new pliase of life for our forest 
hero. A ;uan who, all his life, has had the free range of forest and field, 
would not be likely to keep quiet in a state of sudden imprisonment. 
His spirit would chafe sorel}', and he would find himself impatient once 
more to be free. But Daniel Boone was a philosopher, and could see at 
a glance what was most prudent and safe. As soon as he comprehended 
his novel and dangerous situation, he made uphis mind to keep calm and 
resign himself to his fate. Bv this means he would disarm the suspi- 
cions of the savages, and have more abundant opportunities to make his 
escape. Patience is a rare virtue, all the books and moralists tell us ; 
and few men would have had the sagacitv, as Boone had, to see that his 
fate hung entirel}' on his practice of that one quality. 

A CAPTIVE AMONG THE INDIANS. 

He was a captive for seven days. At the end of that time, they 
lay down at night in the midst of their tawnj' guard, and disposed them- 
selves for sleep. At the still midnight hour, wlien the silence of the 
wilderness is indeed awful, Boone raised his head and looked around him. 
By the deep and steady breathing of his savage captors, h" ^-i-' ^v *-hey 
were fast locked in slumber. Then, he felt, his opportuniL^' bau come. 
Cautiously awakening his companion, they both regained their feet, took 
their rifles from the keeping of the Indians, and crept out of the little 
camp. Tliey both felt that discovery would have been certain death ; 
and therefore they pu.shed forward in tho midnight gloom with redoubled 
courage and energy. But they succeeded in eluding their captors, and 
commenced their wanderings together again. 

They went to their old camp ; but their former companions were 
gone. Everything betokened disappointment and desolation. The camp 
had been broken up, and appearances indicated violence and plunder. 
From this point they never again found traces of those four men. Their 
fate remains to this day a sealed mysterj '''^'hether thej- fell victims to 
the bloody rage of the Indians, who had surpi ibt.^- 'M^X V^ *'heir fancied 
security-, or they had wandered awa}- iu different directions, and, wearj^ 



DANIEL BOONE. 21 

and despairing, had laid their bones in the undiscovered solitndes of the 
wilderness, no man lives that can tell. And thus sadly ended the career 
of the discoverer and early eulogist of Kentucky, John Finley ; that man 
wliose vivid reports of this new western paradise kindled enthusiasm in 
so manv bosoms on the banks of the peaceful Yadkin. 

LIVED BY HUNTING GAME. 

Boone and Stewart were therefore left alone Their sole reliance, 
both for subsistence and defence, was on their unerring rifles. They 
built a hut to protect themselves against the influence of the wintr}' 
weather, and hunted and watched, waiting patiently for the spring to 
open. In the month of January, they espied a couple of men coming 
towards them. Looking closer they saw the}- were white men. What 
must have been the feelings of our hero to find that one of them was 
Squire Boone, his youngest brother ! Squire brought news from Daniel's 
wife and children ; and Stewart was rejoiced to get intelligence from the 
settlement. The circumstances that led to the discovery of Boone's little 
camp by the new comers, were never described; but it seems, at least, 
like the m( . marvelous piece of good fortune on record. 

A second time this little party separated. Daniel Boone and Stewa^ 
pursued one course, and Squire Boone and his friend — whose name even 
is not known — followed another. One would think the}' had already 
learned a better lesson. The consequence was, Stewart was surprised 
and slaughtered by the Indians, while Daniel Boone made his escape; 
and his brother Squire's companion becoming alarmed, probablv thought, 
in a fit of desperation, to find his way back alone to Carolina, and was 
never heard of again alive. It is said that a skeleton was long afterward'' 
found in the region, which was believed to have told the tale of his dark 
and mysterious fate. Thus were the brothers Boone left the only white 
occupants of that vast territory, the real pioneers in the march of civili- 
zation that has been going forward to the West, from that trying and 
doubtful day to these jubilant and prosperous days of our own. 

In order to effect a real settlement in that region, it was necessary 



22 



DANIEL BOONE. 




tured. 



THE PIONEER HERO, DANIEL BOONE. 
Daniel would remain where lie was, and Squire 



to bring forward 
recruits, animals 
and provisions. 
The question was 
how was this best 
to be done ? Dur- 
ing their winter 
discussions at the 
fire, the Boone 
brothers had can- 
vassed it V e r y 
freely, and con- 
cluded at last what 
was best to be at- 
tempted. The pow- 
der was low, and 
bullets were scarce 
for the rifles ; if 
these two items 
failed, all was lost. 
Hence it was im- 
portant that some- 
thing should be 
done as soon as 
possible. Daniel 
Boone w a s all 
ready for the sac- 
rifice, and his 
brother Squire was 
quite as willing to 
perform his part. 
The plan was nia- 
ould travel 



DANIEL BOONE. 23 

back alone to North Carolina, to obtain recruits and supplies. It was a 
distance of many hundred miles. A bolder project was never under- 
taken than that which makes the names of these two devoted Boone 
brothers immortal. 

Young Squire Boone came back. He had traversed that long dis- 
tance, to and fro, without a companion, and at last he stood bj' his brother's 
side again. He had faithfully kept his promise to return. He brought 
along with liim a pair of horses, with provisions. He brought welcoiiK 
news from the brave hunter's wife and family. He brought tidings ot 
the murmur of the people at the foreign rule that oppressed them, and 
possibly of the recent Boston Massacre, which sent a thrill of horror 
through the country. The horses were invaluable, and yet a source of the 
greatest anxiety ; for they were just what would be most likely to betray 
them into the hands of the Indians. They could not be hidden, as the 
brothers could hide themselves. They would not fail to testify their 
presence at any and at all times to the Indian. For eight months these 
two men roamed over the tract of territory upon which they had entered, 
and were net ouce molested. 

BOONE RECEIVED HOME ^A/ITH WONDER AND DELIGHT. 

The brothers then made a slow and tiresome journey back to North 
Carolina, with the intention of inducing as many families as possible to 
emigrate and found a settlement in Kentucky. After his long absence, 
Daniel Boone was received with delight and wonder by his famil}- and 
old acquaintances. At length a little party was made up to migrate to 
the wilds of Kentucky. It consisted of only the two Boone families — 
those of Daniel and Squire ; those who had thought they would go, not 
feeling quite ready when the time really came. The- Boones, however, 
determined to set the example, and to leave that, and their description ot 
the new country westward, to do their own work upon the minds of the 
people in the Yadkin settlements. They set forth on the 25th day of 
September, 1773, taking along with them some cattle and horses. 

Courage generally makes its own conquests ; and by the time this 



DANIEI. BOONE. 25 

little p irty reached Powell's Valle}-, they found, to their astonishment 
and delight, that the stories of the new country had persuaded five more 
families to pin the projected expedition, together with a band of some 
forty strong and determined men, all well armed fur the enterprise and 
its dangers. It was truly a great accession. At the head of this band 
of pioneers Daniel Boone was placed, by virtue of his character and 
experience, and at imce led them out into the western wilderness, across 
the long dreaded mountains. 

A BRUTAL MASSACRE BY THE SAVAGES. 

But a cloud rested upou them ere long, whose shadow served lo 
obscure all their plans. The}- had proceeded safely on their journe}^ till 
the loth day of October, seeing nothing of the Indians, so much dreaded 
by all, when a most sad fatality overtook them, rending the heart of the 
leader with grief It seems that a partof the company, seven in number, 
had gone back a little way to collect together some of the cattle that had 
wandered a little from the main body ; and, fearing no danger because 
they had hitherto met with none, they became in a degree thoughtless 
about keeping the usiial watch. In an unguarded moment they were set 
upon by a party of savages, who had stealthily tracked them along, and, 
without the slightest warning, six out of the seven were cruelly butchered! 
Of these six, a young son of Daniel Boone, only seventeen years of age, 
was one. The main body of the pioneers heard the sounds proceeding 
from the fight while it was going on, and at once rushed to the scene ; 
but the}- reached the spot only to find that all had been slain but one, 
and the young and brave son of Boone among them. The seventh had 
managed to make his escape. 

Here was a sorrowful beginning indeed. Slaughter on the very 
threshold of the undertaking. They did not dare to think of going on. 
for the forest might be swarming with bloodthirsty savages. 

It was resolved to fall back to the settlements on the Clinch River. 
Here Boone remained six months, patiently waiting for the time when 
he could carry out his cherished project, .^.t length he was engaged as 



26 DANIEL BOONE. 

the agent of a Carolina company in purchasing the land on the south 
side of the Kentucky River. A company of surveyors and settlers went 
forward with him, his own family remaining behind, and in 1775 he built 
a stockade fort on the site now occupied by Boonesborough. 

BUILDING A STRONG FORT. 

Having planned the fort, the party sprang to the work with earnest 
vigor, feeling how important its completion was to their own safety. The 
structure was built close by the river, one end resting on the bank, and 
the whole extending back for a distance of two hundred and sixty feet. 
It was a hundred and fifty feet wide. The style of it is as follows ; large 
pieces of timber were sharpened and one end driven into the ground, very 
much like common pickets, and within the enclosure thus formed were 
the several cabins and huts of the party. It may not seem as if such a 
defence could amount to a great deal, but it did, for all that ; the Indians 
knew nothing of the hiding places that might be stowed away in this 
rude fort, while, at the same time, it afforded the settler a better advan- 
tage over his artful enemy ; the forest and the cane-brake were well 
understood by the savage, who there had everything on his side ; but the 
fort was a puzzle whose key he did not know how to get hold of. Still, 
there was one strong objection to this foi"t : it was close by the woods at 
one end, thus affording the savage every chance to approach the settlers, 
and still be concealed from them. 

At each comer of this great enclosure was built a strong log hut, 
with its hewn ends projecting outwardly, thus making the whole a more 
enduring defence than before. The cabins, or huts, were likewise con- 
structed side by side, with rough and heavy logs, making it next to 
impossible to overcome their united strength. Then the few gates needed 
were stout and heavy, difficult to be moved at all, and capable of success- 
fully resisting any assault, even from overwhelming numbers. 

To build this fort required from the istof April till the 14th of June. 
In other words, it was begun just before the battle of Lexington, and 
completed just before the battle of Bunker Hill. Important events were 



DANIEL BOONE. 27 

transpiring, at that time, as well on tlie seaboard as far back in the wild- 
erness. One man lost his life at the hands of the Indians, while the 
work was going on, and that was all. The natives of the forest conld not 
but regard the building of this fort among them, in the very heart of 
their noble hunting-grounds, with greater jealousy even than the 
laying out of the road ; hence they were aroused to making concerted 
movements to destroy it and its white inmates together. To have lost 
but one man by them, during the progress of the work, therefore, was a 
great deal less misfortune than might reasonabl}^ have been expected. 

HIS JOURNEY BACK TO VIRGINIA. 

Boone, by this time, felt as if he would like to go back and see his 
wife and children again. To this end, he determined to leave the garri- 
son where they were, duly cautioning them against surprises at the hands 
of the savages, and impressing on them the necessity of having a certain 
amount of cleared land close by. 

We have not the particulars of this journey of Boone back to Vir- 
ginia ; it is enough to know that it was made in safety, and that his 
heart was gladdened once more to find himself in the arms of his beloved 
wife and children. He resolved, this time, to be separated from them 
no nioi'e. He meant, when he returned, to take them along with him. 
Now that the new fort at Boonesborough was completed, and defended 
by an armed and watchful garrison, he felt secure in the thought of 
taking his little brood out into the forest wilds, and knew, too, what a 
blessed influence the presence of wife and children would have over him. 
The path westward was now open ; men and women cotild go forward in 
it and people the country. 

Boone's wife and daughters were all ready to start. How that jour- 
ney was made, we have, unfortunately, no particular record. Boone 
himself says of it, in his narrative, only this, — that it was "safe, and 
without any other difficulties than such as are common to the passage." 
They stood, at length, on the banks of the Kentucky River. No white 
females had put their feet there before them. Of the women of this 



28 DANIEL ROONE. 

country, they were the pioneers ; a young wife, and daughters in the 
very blush of girlhood and innocence. How rough and hard their wood- 
land life was, it is not eas^^ at this day to imagine. It was an unusual 
thing for anyone then to be taken sick and die in his own bed ; when 
death overtook men in the forest, it was always a death of violence. In 
illustration of the feelings begotten of such a state of things, the fol- 
lowing impressive incident is related : 

"An old lady, who had been in the forts, was. many years later, 
describing the scenes she had witnessed in those times of peril and 
adventure ; and, among other things,' remarked that, during the first two 
years of her residence in Kentucky, the most coniel}^ sight she beheld 
was seeing a young man dj-ing in his bed a natural death. She had 
been familiar with blood, and carnage, and death, but in all these cases 
the sufferers were the victims of the Indian tomahawk and scalping- 
knife ; and that on an occasion when a young man was taken sick and 
died after the usual manner of nature, she and the rest of the women sat 
up all night, gazing upon him as an object of beauty ! " 

DISASTER TO A COMPANY OF PIONEERS. 

That must indeed have been a rugged way of life which subjected 
women to trials like these ; which made it desirable even to see a person 
die in a bed, because death by the tomahawk and the scalping-knife had 
become so common. 

Boone brought out with him, on this return journey to the fort, 
several of the families that turned back before, when the little party was 
assailed by the Indians. These families knew him well, had seen him 
tried in the fierv furnace of affliction, and were content to repose their 
safet}' in his. keeping. But the}? had not all gone ver} far together, 
before they separated. The precise reason for this step is not known, 
and probabl}? never will be. Boone pushed on, while the remainder, or 
the greater part of them, lagged behind. They lost their way. Theii 
cattle and stock strayed away from them. They were like sheep with- 
out a shepherd. And after many reverses, sufferings, and irritating 



DANIEL BOONE. 29 

disappointments, they managed at last to reach the fort at Boones- 
borough by the pathway that was marked out for them. They had at 
least learned one lesson by this idle dissatisfaction ; they knew the worth 
of the man they had deserted. 

One fort naturally suggested another. Each was the nucleus, or 
center, for a wide settlement. This position of Boone being so strong, 
it lent encouragement to the rest to believe they might establish others 
equally strong. So they began to radiate. Pretty soon, there was a fort 
here, and another fort there ; yet the increase was steady and slow, for 
each new post was, at best, biit a rash experiment It was not .-,0 plain, 
even yet, that the settlements did not exist as much by the leniency of 
the Indians, as b}' the aid of anything else. Were they disposed, there 
was little doubt that they might at any time have overwhelmed the little 
band of white men with their numbers. 

CAPTURE OF THREE YOUNG GIRLS BY THE INDIANS 

A circumstance transpired on the 14th of Jnly, 1776, that caused a 
great excitement throughout the settlement. The narrative has already 
been well given by Mr. Peck, in his sketch of Boone's life, drawn from 
the statement of John Floj-d, and from sources additional ; and we prefer 
to give it in the words of Mr. Peck himself: — 

"On the 14th of July, 1776, Betsey Callawav, her sister Frances, and 
Jemima Boone, a daughter of Captain Daniel Boone, the two last about 
fourteen years of age, carelessly crossed the river opposite to Boones- 
borough in a canoe, at a late hour in the afternoon. The trees and 
shrubs on the opposite bank were thick, and came down to the water's 
edge. The girls, unconscious of danger, were playing and splashing the 
water with the paddles, until ihe canoe, floating with the current, drifted 
near the shore. Five stout Indians lay there concealed ; one of whom, 
noiseless and stealthy as the serpent, crawling down the bank until he 
reached the rope that hung from the bow, turned its course up the stream, 
and in a direction to be hidden from the fort. The loud shrieks of the 
captured girls were heard, but too late for their rescue. The canoe, their 



30 



DANIEL BOONE. 



only means of crossing, was on the opposite shore, and none dared to 
risk the chance of swimming the river, under the impression that a large 
bod\- of savages was concealed in the woods. 

'■ Boone and Callaway were both absent, and night set in before their 
return and arrangements could be made for pursuit. Next morning, by 
daylight, we were on the track, but found they had totally prevented our 




CAPTURE OF THE BOON'M AND CALLAWAY GIRLS. 

following them, by walking some distance apart through the thickest 
canes they could find. We observed their course, and on which side we 
had left their trail, and traveled upwards of thirty miles. We then 
imagined that they would be less cautious in traveling, and made a turn 
in order to cross their trace, and had gone but a few miles before we found 
their tracks in a buffalo path; pursued and overtook them on going about 
ten miles, just as they were kindling a fire to cook and get ready for a 
substantial meal. 



DANIEL BOONE. 31 

"Our studv had beeu more to get the prisoners, without giving the 
Indians time to murder them after they discovered us, than to kill them, 
We discovered each other nearly at the same time. Four of us fired, and 
all rushed on them, which prevented them from carrying away anything 
except one shot-gun, without ammunition. Mr. Boone and mj-self had a 
pretty fair shot, just as they began to move off. I am well convinced I 
shot one through, and the one he shot dropped his gun ; mine had none. 
The place was very thick with canes, and being' so much elated on recov- 
ering the three little broken-hearted girls, prevented our making further 
search. We sent them off without their moccasins, and not one of them 
with so much as a knife or a tomahawk." 

PREPARING TO MAKE AN ATTACK ON THE SETTLERS. 

It so happened — or else it was so arranged beforehand — that on this 
very same 14th of July 011 which the three young girls were stolen from 
the vicinit}' of the fort, the Indians all around had divided their forces 
into distinct parties, and determined to make a series of attacks on the 
different settlements, whenever, and as often, as circumstances would 
allow. They beheld the increase of the white numbers with great jeal- 
ousy. Thev dreaded, too, the protection the forts gave them. If they 
could be allowed to fight on their own ground, and in their own wav, it 
would all be to their advantage ; but this placing the whites under cover 
was something they could not understand. These attacks were kept up 
from that time forward with great regularity. No day was free from sus- 
picion that the Indians were close at hand ; no night was so calm and 
quiet that all slept in their beds without dreams of a stealth}- foe in 
their midst, with tomahawk and scalping-knife brandished above their 
heads. 

Of all the places at which the Indian aimed his hatred, the Boones- 
borough Fort was the chief. Here he thought the whole white power 
was centered. Here, too, his British companions-in-arms taught him to 
look for the greatest danger to his rule and his land. Hence he watched 
every movement in its vicinity with a wily temper indeed. Whenever he 



DANIEL BOONE. 



could fiud tlie occupants of the fort in the least degree exposed, he did 
not fail to make his cruelty felt and remembered. 

There were but three forts in Kentucky at the time of which we 
are speaking ; that at Boonesborough, which was the most important 
one — that at Harrodsburgh — and what was known as Logan's Fort. At 
Boonesborough there was a garrison of but twenty-two men; at Logan's 

Fort of only fifteen ; and Har- 
rodsburgh held sixty -five — 
uKjre than both the others to- 
,L:\-iher. That is, there were 
Miily one hundred and two men 
Id hold the entire frontier 
igainst the assaults of Indians 
and British combined ; and by 
•.he treaties that had been 
:'i>rmed between the latter and 
the former, it was easy for a 
mixed army to be precipitated 
upon this little handful of 
settlers from the line of posts 
along to the north, that would 
crush them out ot existence. 
It is said that about three hun- 
dred of the settlers had gone 
SQUAW AND PAPOOSE. back to \^irginia again, either 

disheartened at the prospects, or grown too timid to remain and hold 
their position. This of course entailed more severe service on the few 
who remained at their post; they were on the watch continuall}' ; all 
had to take their turns, and take them pretty often, too, as they were in 
constant danger from their foes. 

Finally there was a concerted movement among the savages to make 
a descent on the fort at Boonesborough ; they had waited and watched to 
see what the great strength of the pioneers consisted in, and now, having 




DANIEL BOONE. 33 

perfect!}' satisfied themselves, they resolved to surrouud the whites in a 
body aud endeavor to destro}' tliem. The garrison at Boouesborongh 
was exceedingly small ; the Indians came down i:pon them in nnmbers 
exceeding one hundred. Of conrse, there was dangerous odds against 
the whites. They made their attack on the 15th of April. It was a 
sudden and terrible one. Their savage natures had been aroused to the 
highest pitch of excitement. They dashed, like waves upon rocks, 
against the feeble enclosure of the settlers in the wilderness. The forest 
rang again with their shrill shouts and cries. Their lithe and dusky 
forms peopled the solitudes as the white men had never seen them 
peopled before. They came on with the yells of infuriated beasts, strik- 
ing terror into the hearts of all who heard them. 

GENERAL MASSACRE THREATENED. 

It appeared, for a time, as if the little fort was much too frail to 
withstand the wild onset. They behaved as if nothing could keep them 
from pouring in a living stream into the fort, and visiting the little gar- 
rison with a general massacre. The white settlers made sorry work 
among them with their unerring rifles. How many of the savages were 
thus picked off was never known ; for they were careful to conceal their 
losses by carrying off their dead and wounded. Yet it was believed, with 
good reason, that they were sore sufferers. Their unexpected losses 
served to make them still more ferocious. They raved and stormed 
against the entrenched garrison with the fury of desperation. But it was 
to no purpose. The skill and coolness of the white man were more than 
a match for the Indian. 

They sullenly turned their backs, therefore, and plunged into the 
shadows of the wilderness. Now they knew what it was to meet the fire 
of the brave white settlers. It must have tasked them still more to bear 
their dead away with them, especially when so sorely fatigued with the 
results of a vain and bloody assault against a determined foe. That, 
however, was their usual practice, which they would have followed in the 
present case, if it had cost every one of them his life. The evidences of 



34 



DANIEL BOONE. 



tlie desperate combat were all around the locality. The garrison, to be 
sure, did uot lose but a single man, which was a very slight misfortune 
for them, under such threatening circumstances. 

They must have thought themselves fortunate to remain masters of 
their position. 

The savages were not satisfied with this ; it only whetted their 
appetite ^ >r more. Like the wolf, having once tasted blood, they would 




XOE-RACE BETW 



AWS. 



INDIAN AMISKMI 

follow up their ferocious instincts wherever the}- led them. The men 
within the fort looked for a speedy renewal of the attack, l r were they 
disappointed in their expectations. The Indians came out of the forest 
in dense and dark legions, on the 4th of Jul}'. They numbei'ed a larger 
mass than ever. They came and sat down before the rude fortress as 
for a regular siege, resolved either to fight or starve their determined 
enemy out. The numbers stood about two hundred Indians to one white 
man ; overwhelming odds, truly, and apparently discouraging. 

For forty-eight hours the savages kept up the siege. Every white 



DANIEL BOONE. 35 

man's head that was exposed in the least, was during that period in 
imminent danger. They howled and shrieked, the}' whooped and yelled 
in their barbarous frenzj^, expecting that the deadly- terror they would 
tlius strike into the heails of the white men within the fort would some- 
how lead to their easier overthrow. The wild beasts themselves, coming 
from their forest lairs, could not have made night more hideous than did 
these Indians, with their unearthly yells and cries. Those within the 
fortress, however, were not inspired with terror,but rather with desperation. 

HEROISM OF THE LITTLE GARRISON. 

Too well they knew that this was their last chance to hold or lose 
all — and they might the latter. The fighting between the opposing parties, 
during the time the place was thus besieged by the Indians, was as close 
as any that had yet occurred. The little garrison came off, however, with 
the loss of but a single man, as in the previous contest ; fewer were 
wounded, too, than before. The courage of Daniel Boone in this 
encounter was especially conspicuous ; he dared all that any brave man 
could dare, and exercised a wariness that made him an equal match even 
for the Indian. 

Soon after this, other settlers began to come into the forts, and were 
received with manifestations of the greatest joy. When a garrison was 
reduced to the dimensions of this, the slightest accession to its numbers 
could not but be hailed with delight. Forty-iive men arrived from North 
Carolina, in the last week of July, and a hundred more came from Vir- 
ginia in the latter part of August ; making an accession of valuable men 
to the settlement really worth speaking of. x\ll along through the sum- 
mer and into the autumn, they continued to have skirmishes with the 
Indians, but the}- always came out best from each encounter. There was 
no end, apparently, to the ingenuity practised b}' the savages in selecting 
the time and mode of their attacks. At any hour of the day, they were 
liable to beset the party of white men hunting in the forest ; and through 
the still night hours there was no cessation from fears of their presence. 

Boone was wary and watchful. The red man himself was not more 



36 DANIEL BOONE. 

thau a matcli for him iu tliat respect. Aud iu addition to this trait of 
caution and j udgment, he possessed all the attributes of the highest 
courage. No mere military man could inspire followers with deeper con- 
fidence than he. He never hesitated to lead wherever any dared lo follow. 
A man now appeared upon the field, who was destined to play a bril- 
liant and important part iu the early history of the western country. Hi.= 
name was George R. Clarke. No greater military man has ever a-. .- ^ 
ciated his name with the annals of our early western settlements. A . a 
brave man, he had long been familiarly known in the old Virginia colony, 
and he enjoyed the confidence of Lord Dunmore, the royal Governor, in a 
marked degree. The latter had even offered him a military commission 
under British authority, but that lie had nobly declined. 

THREE GARRISONS ENTRENCHED ON THE FRONTIER. 

There were three important garrisons on the northwestern frontier 
that were occupied by the British and Indians — at Detroit, Vincennes, 
and Kaskaskias. The young reader who is not familiar with their loca- 
tion, will do well to make himself acquainted with the same by referring 
. to the map. Clarke saw that there was but one way by which to intimi- 
date the savage, and that was by striking a vigorous and decisive blow 
at once. He therefore resolved to make a concerted attack on each of 
these three fortresses, surprising the garrison perhaps into a surrender. 
He wanted bold men to work with him. He looked around to find those 
who, while as cautious and wary as the Indian himself, were still as fear- 
less as lions to go out into an encounter. 

The first thing done by General Clarke was to select and organize a 
board of forest rangers, or spies, who could track their solitary way in 
the deep wilderness, hover on the outskirts of the enem}-, and fetch and 
carry reports with the utmost promptness and reliabilit3^ The pa3-ment 
for their services, it was pledged by Clarke, should be made by Mrginia. 
All along the Ohio banks they traveled, taking their lives in their 
hands. Themen of our time can have no conception of the perils with 
which they were environed. Clad in their hunting toggerj^ — moccasins, 




PAUL DU CHAILLU 

FAMOUS TROPICAL EXPLORES 




LIEUTENANT ROBERT E. PEARY 
RENOWNED ARCTIC EXPLORER. 




FRANCES WILLARD 
FROM HER LATEST PHOTOGRAPH 



DANIEL BOONE. 37 

buckskin breeches, aud a hunter's shirt of leather, and armed with the 
keen knife and inseparable rifle, they plunged into dense growths of 
forest, aud tracked paths through the close-serried ranks of the cane, 
with the same sense of security with vhich the savage trod those wildjl 
himself The work to bs done by the spy, therefore, courageous as it 
was in the largest sens ■, was attended with a great deal more danger on 
the western frontier, than within range of the enemy's sentinels on the 
Atlantic border in peaceful settlements. 

ROMANTIC STORY OF A WESTERN SCOUT. 

Prominent among all brave and memorable western scouts, or spies, 
is the name of Simon Kenton. He performed a vast deal of invaluable 
work at this particular juncture. There was a secret cause for his thus 
taking to the perils and excitements of a spy among the Indian forts, 
which deserves narration. Boone made choice of him immediately, con- 
fiding to him some of his deepest projects for the reduction of the enemy's 
fortresses and the defence of his own. Of a more sincere and beautiful 
friendship than that which existed between Boone and Kenton, the his- 
tory of no early state, east or west, furnishes any example. The name 
of Simon Kenton — or Simon Butler, as it came to be — is indissolubly 
associated with that of Boone all over the west. Boone's choice of the 
man for the service required, showed the deepest insight on the part of 
the great pioneer. 

Kenton, early in life, was deeply in love with a young woman, who 
failed to return his passion. She preferred another beau to him. This 
was more than the hot blood of the young man could endure. When 
his lady-love called her friends together to witness the ceremony of her 
marriage, Simon Kenton was present, uninvited ; he did not care to be 
invited ; he could witness that ceremony without going through a needless 
form of that kind. Of course his presence created much excitement in 
the bridal party, and, in the custom of those rude times, there was a tussle 
between the successful and unsuccessful young man, which resulted 
rather in the latter' s discomfiture. He vowed vengeance, however, and 



3S DANIEL BOONE. 

walclicd his opportuuity. It was not long in coming ronnd. The two 
young fellows met. Kenton got the better of his adversary, and used 
him savagely. Supposing he had taken his life, he fled for the shelter of 
the forest. Changing his name to that of Simon Butler, he entered on a 
life of wild excitement and reckless daring, which could be desired by no 
living mortal except, perhaps, to keep down internal excitements 
immeasurably stronger and deeper. There are a great many stories told 
throughout the west, of his extreme sufferings in certain cases, when he 
fell into the hands of the Indians. It is said that he was eight times 
compelled to run the gauntlet, which was no slight undertaking, nor 
holding out many chances of escape finally ; he was three times fastened 
to the stake ; and once he came very near being sacrificed by a blow f'-'^^n 
an axe, or tomahawk ; thus he was in constant danger. 

BOONE'S LIFE SAVED BY A NOTED SPY. 

More than once, Simon Kenton was instrumental in saving Boone's 
life. Kenton was on the watch, one day, standing at the gate of the fort. 
He was about going forth on the service of a spy. His rifle was loaded, 
and he was otherwise equipped for his work. It was quite earl\- in the 
morning. A couple of men belonging to the fort were out in the fields 
not far off, engaged in hoeing. Suddenly Kenton observed that the men 
were fired upon. He knew instantly that Indians were at hand. Finding 
themselves unhurt, the two men started and ran with all speed for the 
fort. The savages followed as rapidly. One of the poor fellows was 
overtaken within a few rods of the fort, and tomahawked in sight of 
Kenton himself The latter put his rifle to his shoulder, drew the trig- 
ger, and the savage who had done the deed fell dead in his tracks. 
Revenge was in swift pursuit. 

The Indians were ver}- bold in approaching so near ; but they had 
learned not to fear the white man, from familiarity with his presence. 
Furthermore, thej- were there in such strength that the risk they run 
was slight indeed. Boone was within the fort at the time Kenton fired 
his rifle with such eff'ect at the Indian. The sound was an alarm for his 



DANIEL BOONE. 39 

practised ear, and, with ten trnsty men, he started off after the savages. 
The latter did not rnn, bnt seemed inclined to stand their gronnd. Boone 
and his little party were speedily fighting in the midst of them. Ken- 
ton's qnick eye saw one savage in the act of taking deadl}- aim at Boone 
himself, and he shot him dead on the spot, before his bnllet conld per 
form its fatal errand, and saved the great pioneer. 

BOONE WOUNDED IN A DESPERATE FIGHT. 

So sudden was the alarm — -it being at an early hour of the morning 
— that Boone had thought only of making an instantaneous sally and driv- 
ing the invaders off with a dash ; he had not stopped to calculate in how 
large force they might be, nor what were the chances of his coming off 
victorious. He was struck aback with surprise, therefore, to find liimself 
and his ten followers completely surrounded ! The hostile Indians had 
managed to place themselves in considerable numbers between him and 
the fort ! There was but one way by which he might save himself, and 
that was by rushing furiously against the foe. He made a rush — such 
as only men like him ever dare to attempt — calling out to his followers 
to fire upon the red-skins, aud plunge into their ranks. They did as 
they were ordered ; and, but for the deadly fire of the Indians themselves, 
who were prepared to resist such an onset, they would have cut their way 
through safely aud successfully^ The Indians fired simultaneously with 
the rush the party made at them. 

Boone himself was wounded, and fell to the ground. Six others, 
also, received bullets from the savages' guns. An Indian at once dashed 
forward as the white men fell, and raised his tomahawk to knock out the 
brains of the prostrate Pioneer; but the keen eye of Kenton was upon 
him, and an unerring ball followed the course of the eye in a twinkling. 
Down came the Indian to the ground, biting the dust in the agony of 
death. Kenton was proving himself invaluable. Boone was carried into 
the fort with his leg broken ; the rest were also got in with great haste, 
and then the gates were shut fast against the foe. The Pioneer never 
forgot the obligations he owed to his generous preserver. It is true, he 



40 



DANIEL BOONE. 



could not give them expression, except in words, yet they lived none 
the less deeply in his large and noble heart. 

This is but one of the many similar scenes that were enacted at that 




NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS IN COSTUME. 

time on the frontiers of Kentucky. There was hardly any life but that 
which compriseil alarms and surprises. All labor outside the fort was 



DANIEL BOONE. 41 

performed only under the protection of well armed guards, and at partic- 
ular hours of the day. The land was held at the greatest possible cost, 
both of labor and endurance. Men slept on their rifles. They did not 
stir out without them. A watchful guard had to be kept all the time, 
lest a wily red fellow might by some chance stealthily creep up and sur- 
prise them. There were skirmishes, too, continually. Scarcely a week 
passed over, without one or more of them. 

Having been .shut in for so many months in ' je fort without the 
means of making their usual sallies out for provisions of this and that 
sort, it naturally fell out that the garrison began pretty soon to suffer 
from the lack of salt. They could not live much longer, at least in a 
state of comparative health, unless they could procure salt. The}^ well 
knew of certain places along the course of the streams, where salt was 
to be had iii plenty, the wild beasts of the forest having revealed to them 
the important secret in th.^ first place. Accordingly an expedition was 
planned to procure at these places the much needed commodity. 

WENT WITH TRUSTY RIFLES AND BRAVE HEARTS. 

When a measure of this sort was to be taken, Boone was the man 
all ready to enlist in it. A party of men, all abundantly armed, was 
made up for the expedition. Thirt}^ men set forth. They knew full well 
what they were about to undertake, and went prepared with trusty rifles 
and stout hearts. Their destination was to what was known as the Blue 
Licks, one of the most famous and valuable places for the free production 
of salt known in Kentucky. There was many a fierce and bloody con- 
flict fought at and near this place, and the entire neighborhood forms 
one of the most important of all the localities that helped make up, ft)r 
Kentucky, the title of the "dark and bloody ground." 

Splendid hotels, with numerous out-buildings, occup}' the spot now, 
attracting to it the most gay and fashionable of all the pleasure-seekers 
of the land. It would hardly be recognized as the same spot which orig- 
inated so many bloody encounters between the white settler and the 
ferocious red man of the forest. 



42 DANIEL BOONE. 

After a cautious aud quite slow march — necessarily so, because of 
the unseen dangers that lurked everywhere around them — Boone and 
his brave little band of thirty men arrived in safety, and without the 
loss of a single one of their number, at the place, and began immediate 
operations. They set their salt kettles in which to evaporate the water 
from the spring, and went about the task of manufacturing the salt 
required for the use of the garrison. It was important that the work 
should be done with great dispatch, for the moment the Indians found 
out what they were at, there would come an end to their operations. 

SCENE COMMEMORATED IN OUR CAPITOL. 

Sundr}' exciting incidents occurred while this little party were at 
the springs, and among the rest one which our government has thought 
worthy of preservation in stone, in a sculptured group ornamenting the 
rotunda of the Capitol at Washington. Evidently the story has been 
made to fit the well known character of Boone, but we tell it in the very 
words it has been told in before : 

" Boone, instead of taking part in the diurnal and uninterrupted 
labor of evaporating the water, performed the more congenial duty of 
hunting to keep the company in provisions while the}' labored. In this 
pursuit, he had one daj^ wandered some distance from the bank of the 
river. Two Indians, armed with muskets — for they had now generally 
added these efficient weapons to their tomahawks — came upon him. His 
first thought was to retreat. But he discovered, from their nimbleness, 
that this was impossible. His second thought was resistance, and he 
slipped behind a tree to await their coming within rifle-shot. He then 
exposed himself, so as to attract their aim. The foremost leveled his 
musket. Boone, who could dodge the flash at the pulling of the trigger, 
dropped behind his tree unhurt. The next object was to cause the fire 
of the second musket to be thrown away in the same manner. He again 
exposed part of his person, a daring thing to do according to our present 
ideas, but we must remember that the muskets of those da3's were the 
old-fashioned flint-lock. 



DANIEL BOONE. 



43 



" The eager Indian instantly fired, and Boone evaded the shot as 
before. Both the Indians, having thrown away their fire, were eagerly 
striving, but with trembling hands, to reload. Trepidation and too much 
haste retarded their object. Boone drew his rifle, and one of them fell 
dead. The two antagonists, now on equal ground, the one unsheathing 
his knife, and the other poising his tomahawk, rushed toward the dead 
bodv of the fallen Indian Boone placing his foot on the dead bodv 




DANIEL BOONE'S FIGHT WITH THE SAVAGES, 
dexterously received the well-aimed tomahawk of his powerfitl enemy on 
the barrel of his rifle, thus preventing his skull from being cloven b}^ it. 
In the very attitude of striking, the Indian had exposed his body to the 
knife of Boone, who plunged it in his body to the hilt, and was again 
the hero in a personal encounter." 

A party of Indians who were on their way to capture the iort at 
Boonesborough came suddenU? upon Boone while hunting in the woods 
near the salt springs. Seeing that resistance was useless, he was com- 



44 DANIEL BOONE. 

pelled to surrender himself and liis little band, who were fortunate 
enough to escape being killed, as they probably would have been if they 
had engaged in a fight with the red men. Instead of going forward to 
capture the fort, as they could easily have done, since there were few to 
defend it, the Indians marched their prisoners to Chillicothe, which was 
their leading settlement in that section. 

BOONE AND HIS COMPANIONS SENT TO DETROIT. 

Desirous of acquainting their white allies, the British, with the 
results of their prowess, the Indians sent off Boone and ten chosen men 
of the captured party through the wilderness, and across rivers and 
creeks, to the British fort at Detroit. Genei'al Hamilton was in command 
at that noted place, and it is charged that, in obedience to the spirit of 
the alliance then existing between the British and Indians, he had offered 
large sums of money for all the scalps of the white men that the Indians 
might bring in. He has the credit, however, of humanely telling the 
savages that he preferred living prisoners to scalps, which was .so much 
in his favor when sentiments so civilized were not in the fashion. 

They were about three weeks in making the journc}', which the}- did 
with some difi&culty. Boone all the while pretended to be contented with 
his lot, and thus deceived his captors the more. Little is recorded of the 
journey itself; he is mute respecting it. Arrived at Detroit, he became 
at once the observed of all. Hamilton, the British commander, knew 
much about him, because he could not well help knowing in what esteem 
he had been held by Governor Dunmore, of Virginia. The officers and sol- 
diers showed him many personal attentions, which he greatl}^ prized, and 
repeatedly placed their funds at his disposal. He was escorted around 
wherever he chose to go in the neighborhood, by his Indian guides, all 
the while professing himself satisfied with his new fortunes. Hamilton 
offered the Indians as large a sum as one hundred pounds sterling, or 
five hundred dollars, for his ransom, but the Indians refused the offer 
unconditionally. The}' knew how valuable a prize they had in the per- 
son of the Pioneer of Kentucky. 




CLARA BARTON 




HEROES OF THE RED CROSS IN INDIA 




o 

w 

o 

1— I 
Ui 

H 

w 

> 
CO 



DANIEL BOONE. 45 

He stayed at Detroit for a montli, at no time betraying the least dis- 
content or desire to escape. The Indians were anxious to adopt him, 
knowing what valuable service he could render them, and he appeared 
to be quite agreeable to their wishes. He knew his only safety depended 
upon his falling in apparently with all their plans. They finally returned 
with him to their old village of Chillicothe, arriving there after a long 
and tedious journey. Boone says, in his biography, he was well treated 
by the Indians, made himself friendly with them, was adopted, according 
to their custom, into a family, where he became a son, and had a great 
share in the affection of his new parents, brothers, sisters and friends, 
yet all the time feeling extreme anxiety concerning the fate of "^he fort 
at B^onesborough and watching an opportunity to escape. 

CEREMONY OF ADOPTION INTO AN INDIAN FAMILY. 

In order to become a member of the tribe, and particularly to be 
admitted into the family of the chieftain, he was obliged to go through 
certain ceremonies that must have cost his feelings a large sacrifice ; but 
he considered the object to be gained more than anything else. The}' 
took him and plucked out, spear by spear, all the hair from his head, 
with the exception of a single lock on the top of the skull, called the 
tuft-lock, which was about three inches in diameter ; then thej- put him 
through the process of having the white blood washed out of him ; next 
he was carried to the council house, where he listened to a set speech, 
setting forth the dignity of his new character, and the services expected 
of him as the son of a chief, and the member of the tribe. Finally he 
submitted himself to be painted all about the face, in most fantastic 
devices, and then he sat down with the rest of them to a feast, and to the 
pipe, which is symbolic of peace and fraternity. Boone's best friend 
would not have been likely to recognize him, had he seen him thus 
metamorphosed. 

Every day he studied how he might make his preparations most 
skillfully for escape. The Indians kept a close watch on him, though 
he believed the}' had confidence in his integrity. When they gave him 



40 



DANIEL BOONE. 



bullets with which to go out on his hunting excursions, they were care- 
ful to count them, and observe on his return if he had secreted any for 
his own use in the future. But even here Boone was too shrewd for 
them; for he would use but slight charges of powder, and the bullets he 
would cut in two. Besides sending him out to hunt and bring in wild 
game for them, the savages set him at work making salt ; this they knew 
he could do, for when he was surprised and captured by them, he was 




INDIANS PAINTING WHITE MEN. 

with a party that were engaged in this very occupation.. There were 
salt springs on the Scioto River, and thither he was forced to go and 
" manufacture this indispensable commodity for his dusky captors. The 
Indian was too proud to do menial work, and therefore left it for his 
squaws and his captives. Boone did not in any one point disappoint 
their expectations. He worked industriously and cheerfull}- ; he pro- 
duced liberal supplies of the article they wanted, and they bestowed on 
him their praise for his valuable services. 



DANIEL BOONE. 



47 



All this time, they were without their old leader at the fort at 
Boonesborough. More than four months had elapsed already, aud noth- 
ing had been heard of him. Presently, however, news arrived in a rouud- 
about way at Boonesborough that their leader had been carried off to 
Detroit. That was all they could learn of his fate. They supposed uow 
that he was altogether in the hands of the British, aud that the Indians 
would have no more to do with him, Aud not having heard further 
respecting his disposal, the general 
conclusion was that he had beeu car- 
ried still further away into the wilds 
of Canada. Little thought they that, 
at that very hour, he was so near them, 
the adopted son of a powerful Shawa- 
nese Chief, and secretly plotting how 
he conid best get back to them again ! 
But, without Boone, they seemed to 
give up all ; he had so long been 
their guiding spirit, animating them 
to exertion, that when he was lost, 
all seemed to be lost with him. Hence 
the}' fell off in their watchfulness 
against the enemy, and even suffered 
the fort itself — the last hope and stay 
of their existence — to be neglected. 

Satisfied in her own mind that she should not hear from her husband 
again, the wife of Daniel Boone started off with her little family — except- 
ing one daughter — for the home of her parents in North Carolina. She 
made the journey on horseback, carrying her few effects along with her 
the best way she could. It was a sorrowful journc}' indeed for her. Since 
coming out into the western country, she had sacrificed her eldest boy 
aud lost her husband. Were there an3-thing now left to stay for, she 
would willingly have remained on the frontier ; but she despaired of ever 
seeing her husband again, and the condition of the settlers at Boones- 




SHAWANESE CHIEF. 



48 DANIEL BOONE. 

borougli was fast becoming so precarious that she could not but see the 
folh^ of staying only to throw her life away. Safely, though slowly, that 
brave woman, with her little brood abo-. t her, found her way back through 
the frowning wilderness, hundreds of miles, to Carolina. Few of her sex 
could be found willing to undertake such a journey even in these times ; 
what is to be thought of the courage of her who freel}^ set out on it, in 
times of peril like that, when the forest was alive with dangers fiom sav- 
age and beast, and not even a regular trail was to be followed from one 
point to another ? Surelv, that she was entirely worth_v of her noble 
husband. She arrived home in safet}', as every reader is glad to know. 

SAVAGES PREPARE TO CAPTURE THE FORT. 

To return to Boone himself. When he had finished making salt and 
gone back to the Indian settlement at Chillicothe, he was not a little sur- 
prised to find that his captors had been making preparations, in his 
absence, to proceed in full force against the fort at Boonesborough. There 
were four hundred and fift}' of their bravest warriors, all ready to set out 
on the expedition. This fact caused him to hasten his plans. He began 
to hurry now, where he had acted leisurely before. But it would not 
answer for him to betray the least anxiety, or even suspicion ; therefore 
he pretended not to notice that anything appeared different to him from 
what was xisual. 

In this waA'he could overhear the whole of their talk, and get at the 
meaning of their plans. They had no idea, either, that he had so good 
a knowledge of their language ; but Daniel Boone was a man who j^ut 
everything that came in his way to good use, at one time or another. 
He heard them talk of the weakness of the fort at that particular time ; 
of the carelessness with which it was garrisoned ; of the neglect into 
which it had fallen ; and of their expectations to surprise and capture it 
beyond the possibility of a doubt. No one can imagine with what pangs 
his heart was visited, for he believed that at the fort were still his wife 
and children ; still he was forced to appear perfectly calm, or all would 
be lost. It was a trial such as ver\- few men could go through. Nay, 



DANIEL BOONE. 49 

more and harder tlian this ; he had eveu to flatter aud cajole the rascals 
whenever they did something which the}- deemed worthy of praise. 
Even upon the preparations that were making all aroirud him for this 
very enterprise, he was forced to look with complacency and apparent 
satisfaction. 

He knew he mnst escape, and that speedily. Yet with the ntmost 
caution. A single hasty movement, a single false step, however slight, 
would betray all. The i6th of June came. Up to that ver}? day, the 
Indians had felt no suspicion of his intention. On that morning he was 
going out again, with their consent to engage in hunting. He rose 
early, took his gun, secreted a small piece of venison to alia}' hunger, 
and started off. His heart swelled, courageous as it always was, to think 
of tlie great risk he was running. The}' would easih^ overtake him, if 
they should suspect for what he had gone forth ; and once overtakeu, his 
doom was sealed. They would never have permitted him to live to 
deceive them again. He was intensel}' excited, and yet he kept cool. 
To get a fair start was his great object. He knew cjuite as much of 
the wilderness as they, and would not be afraid to trust his own skill in 
woodcraft against theirs. He was in the prime of life, too, fresh and 
active ; and he felt no fear, great as were the odds against him, unless it 
should come from some unforeseen mischances. 

FAST JOURNEY TOWARD THE FORT. 

For four days and nights he kept traveling, alwa3-s in the direction 

of the fort, and, in the course of that time, he said that he ate but a single 

meal ! The distance to Boonesborough was one hundred and sixty miles. 

This was at the rate of about fort}' miles a day. The single meal eaten 

by him on the road consisted of a wild turkey that he shot himself, after 

he had got safely across the Ohio River. When once he had passed 

this dividing line, he began to feel more at his ease, though still anxious, 

and all the time steadily pushing forward for the fort. It was his great 

care, too, to mislead his pursuers, or throw them off the trail ; this cost 

him much trouble. He swam rivers, forded creeks, waded through 
4 



50 



DANIEL 1500NE. 



swamps aud marshes, and found his way through forests and almost 
impenetrable canebreaks. He listened to every sound, lest it might be a 
dusky pursuer. He was no swimmer, or at least a very indifferent one, 
and he doubted if he should be able to cross the Ohio safely, especially 

as its current was much 
swollen at that season of 
the year. 

But when he came 
to that great stream, flow- 
ing on so majestically, he 
had the luck to find a 
canoe that had drifted 
into the bushes on the 
bank nearb}-, into whicli 
he jumped with no sort 
of ceremonv ; and he 
paddled himself to the 
opposite shore as fast as 
ever boat was propelled 
by oars before. It is said 
there was a hole in one 
end of the canoe, but that 
he manged to stop ef- 
fecually, and in a ver}- 
reasonable time. It was 
INDIAN CHIEF AND HIS WIGWAM. certainly providential 

that it happened to be hidden there in the bushes, and so he recog- 
nized the incident. When he reached the fort at last, and duly made 
himself known to his former comrades, they looked upon him as upon 
one risen from the dead. He was some time engaged in satisfying them 
of his identity, and afterwards in narrating his story from beginning 
to end. 

It grieved him to learu that his wife and children had gone, but it 




DANIKL BOONE. 51 

was too late to help that. He set about directing the needed repairs for 
the fort, knowing far better than the garrison what were the preparations 
making, and what now were the many times heightened motives for 
investing and destroying it. All his energy was broiight to bear npon 
this single thing. Where it was weak — at the gates, the flankers, the post- 
L-rns, or the bastions — he made it strong again. He infused into the 
settlers an activity and enthusiasm they had not displayed since the 
days when he used to arouse them to exertion before. 

PREPARED FOR A HEROIC DEFENSE. 

In the short space of ten days they were all right again, ready to 
receive any sort of a visit — outside, of course — which their old enemies 
might think best to make. This time he felt sure that tlie fort would 
be compelled to stand a siege it had never passed through before. He 
had seen with his own ej'es the large preparations made by the Indians 
to invest and capture it. He had heard their talk about the matter with 
his own ears, and could not btj deceived. Hence he well knew that when 
the next wave rolled in upon them, it would be the most terrible of any 
that had hitherto given them a shock. Against this he was bound to 
make all possible preparation. Besides suspecting what he did, he had, 
it seems, heard directly from the Indians at Chillicothe. One of his com- 
rades had made his escape also, and came in with fresh reports of what 
the Indians were doing. They were all up in arms about his having 
left them in the style in which he did, and vowed vengeance on his 
devoted head for having so thoroughly deceived them. They held a 
great council forthwith. The matter was fully debated. It would not 
do to let a prisoner like that escape. They would teach him that the 
pride of the red man could not thus be offended with impunity. 

They, in their turn, too, were informed how the improvements in 
the fort went on. It was evident to them that the old hand of the mas- 
ter was there again. The intelligence of the strengthening of the white 
man's fortress excited them inexpressibly. The}^ were impatient to be 
off, and make the assault they were resolved upon. They knew that 



52 DANIEL BOONE. 

every day's delay uow only added to the wliite man's strength. The 
talk was long and earnest. It was obvious to them that they had no 
common enemy to deal with now, and they remembered that he was 
familiar with all their habits, their customs, and their weaknesses. He 
had .shown the Indian, if no other white man had done it before him, 
that he was more than a match for him on his own ground, that he was 
acquainted with his tricks and traps, and knew how to keep himself out 
of them ; and the Indian with all his boasted cunning, must needs be on 
the alert, or he would suddenly find himself outwitted by the very enemy 
he pretended to hold in such contempt and disdain. 

INDIANS RESOLVE TO MASSACRE THE WHITES. 

After Boone's escape the Indians formed the grand plan of extermi- 
nating the v/hites altogether. To accomplish a purpose so fell as this, 
required the active strength of the entire nation. They rallied far and 
near. All their braves, 5-oung and old, assembled in force, prepared to 
carry out the plan proposed. From this Indian village and that they 
came in, duly equipped for the blood}' enterprise. The old Shawauese 
sachem — he who had adopted Boone as his own son — was at the head. 
His heart could never consent to forgive the deceit that had been prac- 
ticed upon it b}- his pale-faced son. If he could taste the sweetness of 
revenge uow, he would feel in a degree compensated for what his pride 
had suffered. It did not take a long time, therefore, for the village at 
Chillicothe to fill up with recruits. 

Boone was on the alert. He knew the character of the foe, and the 
necessity of timely preparation against their approach. He had made 
the fort strong and whole again, and felt assured that it was capable of 
offering an irresistible defence against them. And thus prepared, he 
sallied out with a party of nineteen men, determined to oppose them even 
before they reached Booncsborough. He would fain surprise their scout- 
ing parties, and perhaps exit them off ! It was a plan entirely character- 
istic of Boone, and worthy of his tried courage and boldness. Instead 
of waiting for them to come to him, he would go out to them. In this 



DANIEL BOONE. 



53 



sally from the fort, he and his party traversed a distance of one hnndred 
and sixty miles. They struck off for the Scioto River, near which they 




FLIGHT OK THE INDIANS. 
suddenly fell in with a party of thirty Indians, who were on their way 
down to join the main body of the enemy at Chillicothe. 



54 DANIEL BOONE. 

The place wliere the}' met was at au Indian village on a creek known 
as Paint Creek. A battle was at once fought between the two parties. 
Boone proved more than a match fur the red-skins, whom he compelled to 
flee with the loss of one of their number killed, and two wounded. The 
fellows made rapid tracks for their friends at Chillicothe, bearing along 
with them the unwelcome tidings of the affray. Of course the Indian 
leaders there were astonished bej^ond measure to learn that their old 
enem}' had shown boldness enough to come out from the fort and offer 
them battle. Nothing now was thought of but to go forth, and overtake 
and destroy him, and all his men. 

THE ENEMY APPEAR IN FULL FORCE. 

But Boone was prepared for a movement like this. He had no idea 
of being caught awa}' from home bj' the main body of the Indian forces. 
Having once tested the qiiality of his men in an open fight in the forest, 
he was quite satisfied to retire with them to the advantages of shelter 
again. They had tasted danger outside, and the Indians, too, had been 
taught a wholesome lesson ; aud that was all Boone wanted. It was some- 
thing, at least, to show the savages that thej- need not consider them- 
selves safe from assault in any place, or at any time. Having compelled 
them to abandon their little settlement at Paint Creek, and leave their 
baggage, together with several horses, behind them, he was for the time 
satisfied. He was absent but a single week on this warlike excursion, 
in which time he had struck terror into the ver}' heart of the enemy. 

As soon as he reached the entrenchments of the fort again, Boone 
put the entire garrison on the look-out for the foe ; it was certain now 
that they would soon be there. The men at the fort waited and watched 
patiently. They were soon repaid, too, for their trouble. Before long, the 
wilderness was alive with Indians, all armed for the final struggle. They 
came prepared to blot the settlement at Boonesborough out of existence. 
Their faces were painted after the most hideous fashion, and their bodies 
were clad with the most unique and oddly-assorted apparel. They came 
and sat down before the fort in full strength. The forest resounded with 



DANIEL BOONE. 55 

their hideous yells and war-whoops. Stalwart forms appeared from the 
distant shadows, every one the impersonation of hatred and revenge. 
They scowled the defiance they might in vain have tried to speak. On 
the riglit hand and the left, and far away in the front, these native war- 
riors threw out their terrible threats. Boone felt that hope had gone — 
except it came through exertion. It was idle to expect quarter from an 
enemy that had been so nian\^ times baffled. If they once effected an 
entrance within their fortified enclosure, there was an end of all things 
earthly for them. It was truly a dismal contingency to contemplate, but 
it doubtless lent fresh courage to the settlers, for it was the terrible 
courage that is born of despair, that dies, but never surrenders. 

GARRISON CALLED ON TO SURRENDER. 

The commander of this body of Indians was none other than Du 
Quesue himself who gave a name to a fort which will ever go with our 
history, and with whicli that of Washington himself is associated. Black- 
fish, the Shawauese sachem, held command with, not under him. There 
were about four hundred and fifty Indians in the besieging force, and a 
dozen Canadians. 

The little fort that was the object of all this preparation, garrisoned 
but sixty-five men. So few against so many ; seven outside, against one 
inside ! What a forlorn hope indeed did they entertain ! There were help- 
less women and children within the walls to protect, too. They all waited 
for the first movement to be made. 

It was made ; but ver}' differently from the stereotyped Indian 
method. Instead of rushing at the gates with their hideous whoops and 
3'ells, a different course was pursued. The savages adopted the method 
of the white armies in cases of siege, and sat down and asked the garrison 
to surrender, sending a messenger to the fort with that modest request. 
Boone answered that he wanted two days in which to consider. It appears 
that, as soon as he knew of the straits to which he was likely to be 
reduced, he despatched amessengerto the East, describing his condition, 
and soliciting immediate aid. It was to Col. Arthur Campbell that he 



56 DANIEL BOONE. 

sent the request, and within the two days specified he would he likely to 
hear from him. It was simply to gain time, therefore, that he put off an 
answer to the summons. If Campbell should happen to come forth from 
the forest unexpectedly to the Indians, then he could himself sally out 
and attack them from the front, while the force of Campbell would fall 
upon them from the rear ; and between the two fires, their strength must 
melt away. Militarj^ men wonder at the motive that could have induced 
Du Quesne to consent to the terms tendered by the garrison ; yet it is 
possible that he thought he might obtain by diplomacy what he was uot 
so certain to secure by assault, and tlie glory would be greater. At any 
rate, he influenced Blackfish and his party to Avait the two days asked 
for by Boone, which was all that was wanted. Meantime, too, the garrison 
could complete the arrangements necessary for sustaining still more 
successfully the threatened siege. 

READY FOR A LONG SIEGE. 

Du Ouesne certainly showed a humane spirit. He allowed the 
womeu and children, in the interval, to go out and get water from the 
spring, with which to help along existence during the trial that was before 
them. The cattle, too, were all got in through the posterns — a ver\- 
necessar}' assistance in carrying the garrison through the siege. But 
Boonehimselfwas very careful to give the enemy noadvantage ; especially 
was he solicitous that they should not capture his own person, for then 
the whole object of the expedition would be over. Hence, while he freely 
exposed himself to their sight, he was careful to remain under protection 
of the fort. In his going out and coming in, he became quite familiar 
with the enemy, mau}^ of whom knew him well at the Chillicothe village 
and would have been glad enough to lay their hands on him now. 

But the time grew short. The two days were nearly spent. No 
Colouel Campbell yet, emerging with succor from the shadows of the 
forest. The answer was to be finally given. All the good that could be 
gained b\- the dehi}', had already been gained ; the garrison had been 
supplied with beef and water to stand the test and trial of a long siege. 



DANIEL BOONE. 57 

He saw now that lie must act ; words were idle. So he collected his little 
handful of men around him, and asked them which they preferred — resist- 
ance or surrender. He knew for himself that surrender was certain death, 
and resistance, at the worst, could be no more ; yet he deferred to the 
opinions of the others. They were all ready with their answer ; they 
would resist till the last hour of their lives — they would never capitulate. 
Death itself was preferable to disgrace of that character. 

Therefore they made ready to fight. They understood how much 
more numerous the enemy were than themselves, but they would fight, 
nevertheless. The commander of the besieging force demanded his 
answer. Boone stood boldly on the ramparts and gave it — "We will fight 
so long as a man lives to fight, " said he. It was enough. The die was 
cast. From that moment their lives depended on a successful resistance. 
It was said that the bold and brave manner of Boone struck dismay into 
their hearts. At any rate, their leaders must have seen how foolish thev 
were in permitting the garrison to provision tliemselves as thoroughly 
as they did. But the siege did not begin even then. Du Quesne was not 
willing to give up his arts of diplomacy, thinking he mightyetwinby mere 

words. 

PROPOSAL FOR TREATY ACCEPTED. 

So he returned a reply to Boone's answer, telling him that Governor 
Ham.. .on, at Detroit, wished to make prisoners of the garrison, but not 
to destroy them, and he requested him to send out nine men from the 
fort to make a treaty, in which case the forces outside would be with- 
drawn, and all would go back home without any trouble. In his account 
of the affair, Boone says, " This sounded grateful to our ears, and we 
agreed to the proposal." He agreed to it because he knew that Hamilton 
felt friendly towards him, and he further knew that if they fell into the 
hands of the besiegers as regular prisoners, there was no hope for their 
lives. 

On consultation, it was resolved to select the nine men desired and 
send them out. Boone, of course, was at their head. His brother was 
likewise of the party. The very best men of the garrison, in fact, were 



5S DANIEL BOONE. 

the ones selected. Yet they determined not to go bej-oud the protection ot 
the fort itself. The distance they ventured was one hundred and twenty 
feet from the walls. The accurate shooters of the garrison, with sure 
rifles at their shoulders, held their muzzles in such a position as to 
protect them. The leading men of the opposite party came up on the 
same ground. It was plain, however, that they took precaution to protect 
themselves as much as the others. There they met, professedly with 
only peaceful intentions, but in reality dreading each the power and 
threats of the other, and entertaining mutual suspicions. 

BASE TREACHERY OF THE INDIANS. 

The Canadian captain proposed the terms. In order to test the 
sir ^rity of the besiegers, and for nothing more, Boone and his part}^ 
consented to sign them outright, even though the conditions were such 
as they well knew they could not agree to. Boone employed the occasion 
as a mere ruse, in order to find out their real meaning and intention. The 
treaty, tlierefore, was signed. Blackfish, the old Shawanese chief, then 
rose and commenced a speech. The Indians came forward at the same 
moment. He said it was customary, on the conclusion of a treaty of 
peace, for the parties to the treaty to come and shake hands with one 
another. Boone and his other eight men were alive to suspicion, but still 
they consented to go through with the ceremony. 

The moment hands were joined, a signal was given by Black- 
fish, by previous concert, and three Indians sprang forward to each 
white man, to make a captive. But, fortunately, the whites were fully 
prepared for them. The}- broke away from the grasp of professed 
friendship, and ran for the fort. A general firing began. The party 
stationed at the fort let off their guns to protect their fleeing comrades, 
and the Indians commenced firing in return. Boone had thus unmasked 
their whole scheme, and had literally drawn their fire. Their entire 
plan was now exposed. The brother of Boone, Squire Boone, was 
wounded, but all the rest escaped as by a miracle. Nine men out of the 
jaws of four hundred and sixty ! It was indeed a miracle. 



DANIEL BOONE. 59 

Haviug secured their retreat within the fort, and closely shut and 
fastened the gates, they made iustant readiness to sustain the worst that 
might come. And immediately, too, the siege began in good earnest. 
The Canadian and the Indian united their skill and perseverance. For 
nine days and nights tliis trial proceeded. It is impossible to convej^ to 
the reader any proper idea of what the garrison in that time went 
through. They were few in numbers, and their hopes were feeble. 
The}' were far from their friends, far from all succor and sympath}-. 
The enemy could keep constant watch, and not suffer ; but if the gar- 
rison watched, as they must, they were so few that all would be likely 
in the end to be exhausted. Every man during that memorable siege 
of nine days, proved himself a hero. The great West knows not how 
much it owes to the exertions of these same brave pioneers, who were 
willing and ready to endure so much. The firing of bullets from the 
outside was incessant ; it literally rained bullets, by the h-'Urat a time. 

FURIOUS FIGHTING ON BOTH SIDES. 

But the men in the fort were prudent, and used their ammunition 
only to the best advantage. They fired only when they were prett}' sure 
to hit. The savages sheltered themselves as well as they could in tlie 
belt of the forest hard by, but even then the marksmen within the fort 
were much too sure for them. To show the amount of ammunition 
used by the foe, it is only necessary to note what Boone himself said 
about it, "that after they were gone, we picked up one hundred and 
twenty-five pounds of bullets, besides what stuck in the logs of our fort, 
which certainly is a great proof of their industr}-." 

It is related among the incidents of the siege, that a negro had 
deserted from the fort, who was known to be skilled in the use of the 
rifle. Anxious to commend himself to his newly-found friends, he 
climbed into a tree, and began to do serious execution. Boone 
heard what was going on, and looked out for the fellow. As soon 
as he saw his head, he fired a bullet into it, and the negro fell 
dead to the ground. Boone's daughter also was wounded — the only 



60 DANIEL BOONE. 

one who had remained behind when her mother set out on her return 
to Carolina. 

At length, exasperated to find that the)^ could gain no advantage 
thus, the savages resolved to trj^ another plan. They set fire to the fort ! 
The flames were soon spreading ! Whatever was done, must be done 
instantly. A young man was bold and brave enough to risk his life in 
the attempt to quench the flames. He succeeded in his effort. The fort 
was saved. Seeing this, the Indians thought they might as well give it 
all up. They took counsel among themselves forthwith, and resolved 
to withdraw without delay. There was no use in keeping up the attempt 
to subdue an enemy who the Great Spirit had willed, .should not be sub- 
dued. But before the}^ withdrew, they resorted to one expedient more. 
They attempted to tindermine the fort. Boone, however, was on the 
alert, and foiled them with a counter-mine. They felt that they were 
vanquished, and gave it up. 

VICTORY AFTER A FEARFUL SIEGE. 

The siege had lasted in all, from the 8th to the 20th da}' of August. 
It was a memorable aff'air in the history of tlie West, and cannot be 
dwelt on too long or too often by those who, in this day, enjoy the bene- 
fits that were secured to them by these bravest of all pioneers. Nothing 
more desperate in all history is recorded, when we take into account the 
circumstances of the time, and the several incidents of the occasion. 
To the last day of their lives, the men who participated in these stirring 
scenes were wont to recall them with expressions of the deepest emotion. 
They could never forget the fearful trials to which, in that brief time, they 
were subjected. 

The savages went their own way. They hated to give over their 
darling design to make a captive of the man who was the acknowledged 
life and soul of the settlement, knowing very well the sort of man they had 
once had in their hands. But it seemed they were not fated to have him 
in their power very soon again. All their plans had certainly failed to 
retake him. They vanished as they had come. 



DANIEL BOONE. 61 

Tlie brief and modest statement of the Pioneer, after the siege of 
Boouesborough was raised, is as follows : " Soon after this, I went into 
the settlement, and nothing wortliA^ of place in this account passed in 
my affairs for some time." His successfnl holding ont at the fort, how- 
ever, was an act memorable enough of itself to answer for his lifetime ; 
for, had this little frontier fortress gone, with the clonds of misfortune 
that were gathering over the American cause in the Atlantic States, 
there is no telling if it would have been possible to recover from the 
blow at all. More depended on this ver}- defense of Boouesborough than 
the careless reader of our history is aware of. 

He says of himself again : "Shortly after the troubles at Booues- 
borough, I went to my family, aud lived peaceably there. The history 
of my going home (to North Carolina) and returning with my family, 
forms a series of difficulties, an accoi:nt of which would swell a volume, 
and, being foreign to my purpose, I omit them." 

On the admission of Kentucky to the Union, Boone lost his property 
for want of formal titles, and retired in 1798 in disgust into the wilderness 
of Missouri, which did not become United States territory till 1803. In 
1812 his claim to a tract of land was allowed in recognition of his services, 
but when the territory was ceded bj^ Spain to the United States it was 
found thathis title was not valid, on account of his failure to have it prop- 
erly recorded. 

He died at Charette, on the Missouri River, September 26, 1820. 




CHAPTER II. 

KIT CARSON. 

FAMOUS TRAPPER AND GUIDE — DARING EXPLOITS 
IX THE 'WEST — ENCOUNTERS WITH THE INDIANS 
— A PICTURESQUE HORSEMAN AND HUNTER - 
X'ALUABLE SERVICES AS EXPLORER. 

There arc men who are exactly fitted for a rough, wild, pioneer life. 
The}' are at home amidst dangers and perilous expeditions. Strong in 
body, superb in courage, reckless to some extent, and ever ready for an}- 
difficult undertaking, they lead where other men scarcely dare to follow. 

Such a man was Kit Carson, whose many adventures form a thrill 
ing history, and whose name will always be associated with the march 
of civilization toward the shores of the Pacific. He was a man of great 
courage, daring intrepidity, heroic bearing, and wonderful nerve and 
endurance. If he had been a bandit and robber, instead of a trusty and 
brave guide, he would have terrorized half a continent. 

Christopher Carson, familiarly known under the appellation of K. 
Carson, was one of the most extraordinary men of the present era. His 
fame has long been established throughout this country and Europe, as 
a most skilful and intrepid hunter, trapper, guide and pilot of the prairies 
and mountains of the far West, and Indian fighter. But his celebrity 
in these characters is far surpassed by that of his individual personal 
traits of courage, coolness, fidelity, kindness, honor, and friendship. The 
tlieatre of his exploits was extended throughout the whole western portion 
of the territory of the United States, from the Mississippi to the Pacific, 
and his associates were some of the most distinguished men of the present 

62 



KIT CARSON. 



63 



age, to all of wliom lie became an object of affectionate regard and marked 
respect. 

It appears, from the various declarations of those most intimate with 
Christopher Carson, as well as from a biography published a number of 
years before his death, that he was a native of ]Madison county, Kentuck}^, 
and was born on the 24th of December, 1809. Colonel Fremont, in his 
exhaustive and interesting report of his Exploring Expedition to Oregon 
and North California, in 1843-44, says that Carson was a native of Boons- 




OLD HOME OF THK FAMOUS GUIDK, KIT CARSON, AT TAOS, NIAV Ml-.XICO. 

lick count}', Missouri ; and from his long association with the hunter, he 
probabl}^ makes the statement on Carson's own authority. The error, if 
it is an error, may have arisen from the fact that Carson's father moved 
from Kentucky to Missouri, when Christopher was only one year old. 
He settled in what is now Howard county, in the central part of 
Missouri. 

When Mr. Carson removed his family from Kentucky, and settled 
in the new territory, it was a wild region, naturally fertile, thus favoring 
his views as a cultivator; abounding in wild game, and affording a splen- 



64 KIT CARSON. 

did field of enterprise for the hunter, but infested on all sides with Indians, 
often hostile, and always treacherous. As Mr. Carson united the pursuits 
of farmer and hunter, and lived in a sort of blockhouse or fort, as a pre- 
caution against the attacks of the neighboring Indians, his son became 
accustomed to the presence of danger, and the necessity of earnest action 
and industry from his earliest childhood. 

ENTERED EARLY UPON A TRADER'S LIFk. 

At the age of fifteen, Kit Carson was apprenticed to a saddler. This 
trade requiring close confinement, was, of course, iitterl}' distasteful to a 
boy already accustomed to the use of the rifle, and the stirring pleasures 
of the hunter's life, and at the end of two years, his apprenticeship was 
terminated, for Kit voluntarily abandoned the further pursuit of the 
trade, and sought the more active employment of a trader's life. His 
new pursuit was more congenial. He joined an armed band of traders in 
an expedition to Santa Fe, the capital of New Mexico. This, at that 
period, 1826, was rather a perilous undertaking, on account of the Indian 
tribes who were ever read}' to attack a trading caravan, when there was 
any prospect of overcoming it. No attack was made on the pai't}', how- 
ever, and no incident of importance occurred, if we except the accident to 
one of the teamsters who wounded himself b}' carelessly handling a 
loaded rifle, so as to render it necessary to amputate his arm. In 
this operation Carson assisted, the surgical instruments being a 
razor, an old saw, and an iron bolt, heated red hot, in order to apply 
the actual cautery. Notwithstanding this rough surgerj', the man 
recovered. 

After spending a winter at Taos and learning the Spanish language, 
Carson returned to Santa Fe and became a teamster. Here he secured a 
position as interpreter to a tradesman, but there was not enough of adven- 
ture about such a life for a 3'oung man whose chief enjoyment was in the 
chase and in roaming over the prairies and through the woods. He was 
plainly cut out for a pioneer, an adventurer in the best meaning of the 
term, and he was never so happy as when pursuing wild game or encoun- 



KIT CARSON. 



C5 



tering the dangers attending an expedition against the red men. He 
soon joined a party of hunters and trappers to punish the Indians for 
their depredations against the white settlers, though they reallj? set out 
to trap for beaver. 

They did not fall in with the Indians, of whom they were in pursuit, 
until they had reached the head of one of the affluents of the Rio Gila, 




INDIANS ATTACKING THE HOUSE OF A WHITE SETTLER, 

called Salt River. Once in presence of their enemies they made short 
work with them, killing fifteen of their warriors, and putting the whole 
band to rout. Such occurrences were by no means nnfrequent, as wp, 
shall see in the course of this narrative. A small body of experienced 
Iiunters and trappers, confident in their superior skill and discipline, 
never hesitates to attack a greatly superior unniber of Indians, and it 
was a rare thing that success did not attend their daring. The Indian is 



Oe KIT CARSON. 

not fond of a "fair stand up fight." He prefer^, stratagem and ambush, 
aud reverences as a great "brave," the warrior who is most successful in 
circumventing his enemies, aud bringing off many scalps without the 
loss of a man ; but when a considerable number of Indians are sho\ 

down in the first onset, the remain- 
der are very apt to take to flight in 
every directiou. 

Carson joined a company of 
trappers under command of Cap- 
tain Young, and we next find him 
in California. Here, in the beau- 
tiful valley of the Sacramento, the 
partv hunted such animals as were 
valuable by reason of their skins. 
At this stage of oi:r narrative we 
have the story of two expeditions 
which Carson led against the In- 
dians, while they trapped upon the 
Sacramento, which give proof of 
his courage and thorough education 
in the art of Indian warfare, which 
had become a necessity to the trav- 
eler on the plains, aud in the 
mountains of the western wilds. 
With his quick discrimination of 
character, aud familiarity with the habits of the race, he could not but 
know the Digger Indians were less bold than the Apaches and Caman- 
ches, with whom he was before familiar. 

The Indians at the Mission San Gabriel, were restive under coerced 
labor, and forty of them made their escape to a tribe not far away. The 
mission demanded the return of these fugitives, and being refused, gave 
battle to the neighboring tribe, but were defeated. The Padre sent to the 
trappers for assistance to compel the Indians not to harbor their people. 




APACHE SQUAW AND CRADLE. 



KIT CARSON. 67 

Carson and eleven of his companions volnnteered to aid the mission, 
and the attack iipon the Indian village resulted in the destruction of a 
third of its inhabitants, and compelled them to submission. Captain 
Young found at this mission a trader to take his furs, and from them 
purchased a drove of horses. 

Dii'ectly after his return, a party of Indians contrived to drive away 
sixt}' horses from the trappers, while the sentinel slept at night. Carson, 
with twelve men, was sent in pursuit. It was not difficult to follow the 
fresh trail of so large a drove, yet he pursued them a hundred miles, 
and into the mountains, before coming up with them. The Indians sup- 
posed themselves too far away to be followed, and were feasting on the 
flesh of the stolen horses the}- had slaughtered. Carson's party arranged 
themselves silently and without being seen, and rushing upon the Indian 
camp, killed eight men, and scattered the remainder in every direction. 
The horses were recovered, except the six killed, and partly consumed, 
and with three Indian children that had been left in camp, they returned 
to the joyful greetings of their friends. 

CAPTURE OF LARGE HERDS OF CATTLE AND HORSES. 

While on the Colorado, Young's party discovered a company of 
Indians (with whom they had had a previous skirmish), as they were 
coming out from Los Angeles, and charging suddenly among them, suc- 
ceeded in taking a large herd of cattle from them, in the Indians' own 
style. The same week an Indian party came past their camp in the 
night, with a drove of a hundred horses, evidentlj^ just stolen from a 
Mexican town in Sonora. The trappers, with their guns for their pil- 
lows, were read}- in an instant for the onslaught, and captured these 
horses also, the Indians hurrying away for fear of the deadly rifle. The 
next day they selected .such as they wanted from the herd, choosing of 
course the finest, and turning the rest loose, to be taken again by the 
Indians, or to become the wild mustangs that roamed the plains of North- 
ern Mexico, in droves of tens of thousands, and which could be cap- 
tured and tamed onl}' by the use of the lasso. 



68 



KIT CARSON. 



Mr. Young and his party trapped down the Colorado and up the 
Gila with success, then crossed to the vicinity of the New Mexican copper 
mines, where they left their furs and went to Santa Fe. Having pro- 
cured their license to trade with the Indians about the copper mines, 
they returned thither for their furs, went back to Santa Fe and disposed 
of them to great advantage. The party disbanded with several hundred 




TRADING WITH THE INDIANS, 
dollars apiece, which most of them expended as sailors do their earnings 
when they come into port- 

Of course Carson was hail fellow well met with them for a time. He 
had not hitherto taken the lesson that all have to learn, that the ways of 
pleasure are deceitful paths ; and to resist temptation needs a large 
amount of courage — larger perhaps than to encounter any physical dan- 
ger ; at least the moral courage it requires is of a higher tone than the 
physical courage which would carry one through a fight with a grizzly 




^JL 




rOMMANDCK RICHARD WAINWRIGHT 



KIT CARSON. 



69 



bear triumpliantly ; that the latter assists the former ; indeed that the 
highest moral courage must be aided by physical bravery, but that the 
latter may exist entirely independently of the former. 

Carson learned during this season of hilarity the necessity of saying 
No ! and he did so persistently, knowing that if he failed in this he 
woiild be lost to himself and to everything dear t<> life. He was now 




CAMl' Ul lUL NLZ I'LRCES. 
twenty-one, and though the terrible ordeal of poverty had been nobly 
borne, and he had conquered, the latter ordeal of temptation from the sud- 
den possession of what was to him a large sum of money, had proved 
for once, too much. And it is well for him perhaps it was so ; as it 
enabled him to sow his wild oats in earl}? youth and prepare for his 
\eroic life work. 

In the autumn Carson joined another trapping part}' under Mr. 
Fitzpatrick, whom we shall have frequent occasion to mention hereafter. 
They proceeded up the Platte and Sweet Water past Goose Creek to the 



70 KIT CARSON. 

Salmon River, where the}^ wintered, like other parties, sharing the good 
will of the Nez Perces Indians, and having the vexations of the Black- 
feet for a constant fear. Mr. Fitzpatrick, less daring than Carson, 
declined sending him to pnnish this tribe for their depredations. 

In the spring they came to Bear River, which flows from the north 
to Salt Lake. Carson and four men left Mr. Fitzpatrick here, and went 
ten days to find Captain Gaunt in the place called the New Park, on 
the head waters of the Arkansas, where they spent the trapping season, 
and wintered. While the party were wintering in camp, being robbed 
of some of their horses by abandof sixty Crow Indians, Carson, as usual, 
was appointed to lead the party sent in pursuit of the plunderers. With 
only twelve men he took up the trail, came upon the Indians in one of 
their strongholds, cut loose the animals, which were tied within ten feet 
of the fort of logs in which the enemy had taken shelter, attacked them, 
killed five of their warriors, and made good his retreat with the recovered 
horses ; an Indian of another tribe who was with the trappers bringing 
away a Crow scalp as a trophy. 

ENCOUNTERS WITH INDIAN HORSE STEALERS. 

In the spring, while trapping on the Platte River, two men belong- 
ing to the party deserted and robbed a cache, or underground deposit of 
furs, which had been made by Captain Gaunt, in the neighborhood. Car- 
son, with only one companion, went off in pursuit of the thieves, who, 
however, wei'e never heard of afterwards 

Not finding the plunderers, Carson and his companion remained at 
the old camp on the Arkansas, where the cache had been made, imtil 
they were relieved by a party sent out from the United States with sup- 
plies for Captain Gaunt' s trappers. They were soon after joined by a 
party of Gaunt's men, and started to his camp. On their way they had 
repeated encounters with Indians attempting to steal their horses, but 
easily beat them off and saved their property. 

On one occasion, when Carson and the other trappers were out in 
search of "beaver sign," they came suddenly upon a band of sixtv war- 



KIT CARSON. 71 

riors well armed aud mounted. In the presence of snch a force their only 
safety was in flight. Amid a shower of bullets from the Indian rifles, 
they made good their escape. Carson considered this one of his narrow- 
est escapes. 

Not loug after this Carson had an adventure with two grizzly bears 
which he considered one of the most perilous he ever met with. He had 
gone out from the camp on foot to shoot game for supper, and had just 
brought down an elk, when two grizzly bears came suddenly upon him. 
His rifle being empty, there was noway of escape from instant death but 
to run with his utmost speed for the nearest tree. He reached a sapling 
with the bears just at his heels. Ciitting off a limb of the tree with his 
knife, he used that as his only weapon of defence. When the bears climbed 
so as nearly to reach him, he gave them smart raps on the nose, which 
sent them away growling ; but when the pain ceased they would return 
again only to have the raps repeated. 

LUCKY ESCAPE FROM CLIMBING BEARS. 

In this way nearly the whole night was spent, when finally the bears 
became discouraged, and retired from the contest. Waiting until they 
were well out of sight, Carsou descended from his unenviable position, 
aud made the best of his way into camp, which he reached about day- 
light. The elk had been devoured by wolves before it could be found, 
and his three companions were only too glad to see him, to be troubled 
about breakfasting on beaver, as they had supped the night before ; for 
trappers in camp engaged in their business had to resort to this kind of 
food when they could obtain no other. 

Carson for the fall hunt joined a company of fifty, and went to the 
country of the Blackfeet, at the head waters of the Missouri ; but the 
Indians were so numerous, and so determined upon hostility, that a 
white man could not leave his camp without danger of being shot down ; 
therefore, quitting the Blackfeet country, they camped on the Big Snake 
River for winter quarters. 

During the winter months, the Blackfeet had in the night run off 



72 



KIT CARSON. 



eighteen of their horses, and Kit Carson, with eleven men, was sent to 
recover tliem, and chastise their temerity. They rode fifty miles 
throngh the snow before coming np with the Indians, and instantly 
made an attempt to recover their animals, which were loose and quietly 
grazing. 

The Indians, wearing snow shoes, had the advantage, and Carson 




INDIAN VILLAGE IN WINTER. 

readily granted the parley they asked. One man from each part}^ 
advanced, and between the contending ranks had a talk. The Indians 
informed them that they supposed they had been robbing the Snake 
Indians, and did not desire to steal from white men. Of course this 
tale was false, and Carson asked why they did not lay down their arms 
and ask for a smoke, but to this they had no reply to make. However, 
both parties laid aside their weapons and prepared for the smoke ; and 



KIT CARSON. 73 

the lighted calumet was puffed by every one of the savages and the 
whites alternately, and the head men of the savages made several long 
non-committal speeches, to which, in repl3^ the trappers came directly 
to the point, and said they would hear nothing of conciliation from 
them until their property was returned. 

RECEIVES A PAINFUL WOUND IN THE NECK. 

After much talk, the Indians brought in five of the poorest horses. 
The whites at once started for their guns, which the Indians did at the 
same time, and the fight cnmmenced. Carson and a comrade named 
Markland, having seized their rifles first, were at the lead, and selected 
for their mark two Indians who were near each other and behind 
different trees ; but as Kit was about to fire, he perceived Markland's 
antagonist aiming at him with death-like precision, while Markland 
had not noticed him, and, on the instant, neglecting his own adversary, 
he sent a bullet through the heart of the other savage, but at the 
moment saw that his own enemy's rifle was aimed at his breast. He 
was not quite quick enough to dodge the ball, and it struck the side of 
his neck, and passed through his shoulder, shattering the bone. 

Carson was thenceforward only a spectator of the fight, which con- 
tinued until night, when both parties retired from the field of battle and 
went into camp. 

Carson's wound was very painful and bled freely, till the cold 
checked the flow of blood. They dared not light a fire, and in the cold 
and darkness Carson uttei-ed not a word of complaint, nor did even a 
groan escape him. His companions were earnest in their S3'mpathy, 
but he was too brave to need it, or to allow his wound to influence the 
course they should pursue. 

In a council of war which they held, it was decided that, as they 
had slain several Indians, and had themselves only one wounded, the}' 
had best return to camp, as they were in unfit condition to continue the 
pursuit. Arriving at camp, another council was held, at which it was 
decided to send thirty men under Captain Bridger, to pursue and chas- 



74 KIT CARSON. 

tise these Blackfeet thieves. This party followed the Indian trail 
several days, but finally returned, concluding it was useless to search 
further, as thc}^ had failed to overtake them. 

We next find Carson in a hunting and trapping party of a hundred, 
of which he was one of the leaders, organized to trap on the Yellowstone 
and the head waters of the Missouri. 

DANCES AROUND A WINTER FIRE. 

The winter's encampment was made in this region, and a part}^ of 
Crow Indians which was with them, camped at a little distance, on the 
same stream. Here thej^ had secured an abundance of meat, and 
passed the severe weather with a variety of amusements, in which the 
Indians joined them in their lodges, made of buffalo hides. These lodges, 
ver\- good substitutes for houses, are made in the form of a cone, spread 
by the means of poles spreading from a common centre, where there was 
a hole at the top for the passage of smoke. These were often twenty 
feet in height, and as many feet in diameter, where the}^ were pinned to 
the ground with stakes. In a large village the Indians often had one 
lodge large enough to hold fifty persons, and within were performed their 
war dances around a fire made in the centre. During the palmy days of 
the British Fur Company, in a lodge like this, only made, instead, of 
birch bark, Irving says the Indians of the north held their "primitive 
fairs," outside the city of Montreal, where the};' disposed of their furs- 
There was one drawback upon conviviality for this part3% in the 
extreme difficult_v in getting food for their animals ; for the food and fuel 
so abundant for themselves did not suffice for their horses. Snow covered 
the ground, and the trappers were obliged to gather willow twigs, and 
strip the bark from cottonwood trees, in order to keep them alive. The 
inner bark of the cottonwood is eaten by the Indians when reduced to 
extreme want. Besides, the cold brought the buffalo down upon them 
in large herds, to share the nourishment they had provided for their 
horses. 

Spring at length opened, and gladly they again commenced trapping; 



KIT CARSON. 



75 



first on the Yellowstone, and soon on the headwaters of the Missouri, 
where they learned that the Blackfeet were recovered from the sickness 
of last 3'ear, which had not been so severe as it was reported, and that 
they were still anxious and in condition for a fight, and were encamped 
not far from their present trapping grounds. 

Carson and five men went forward in advance "to reconnoitre," and 




INDl-VNb HUNTINi, W II D BUFFALOES 

found the village preparing to remove, having learned of the presence of 
the trappers. Hurrying back, a party of forty-three was selected from 
the whole, and they unanimously selected Carson to lead them, and 
leaving the rest to move on with the baggage, and aid them if it shoiild 
be necessary when they should come up with the Indians, they hastened 
forward, eager for a battle. 

Carson and his command were not long in overtaking the Indians, 
and, dashing among them, at the first fire killed ten of their braves, but 



76 KIT CARSON. 

the Indians rallied, and retreated in good order. The white men were in 
fine spirits, and followed up their first attack with deadly result for three 
full hours, the Indians making scarce any resistance. Now their firing 
became less animated as their ammunition was getting low, and they had 
to use it with extreme caution. The Indians, suspecting this from the 
slackness of their fire, rallied, and with a tremendous whoop, turned upon 
their enemies. 

Now, Carson and his company could use their small arms, which 
produced a terrible effect, and which enabled them again to drive back 
the Indians. The}^ rallied yet again, and charged with so much power, 
and in such numbers, they forced the trappers to retreat. 

A DEADLY SHOT IN THE NICK OF TIME. 

During this engagement, the horse of one of the mountaineers was 
killed, and fell with his whole weight upon his rider. Carson saw the 
condition of the man, with six warriors rushing to take his scalp, and 
reached the spot in time to save his friend. Leaping from the saddle, he 
placed himself before his fallen companion, shouting at the same time 
for his men to rally around him, and with deadly aim from his rifle, shot 
down the foremost warrior. 

The trappers now rallied about Carson, and the remaining five 
warriors retired, without the scalp of their fallen foe. Only two of them 
reached a place of safety ; for the well aimed fire of the trappers leveled 
them with the earth. 

Carson's horse was loose, and as his comrade was safe, he mounted 
behind one of his men, and rode back to the ranks, while, by genera" 
impulse, the firing upon both sides ceased. His horse was captured and 
restored to him, but each party, now thoroughly exhausted, seemed to 
wait for the other to renew the attack. 

While resting in this attitude, the other division of the trappers 
came in sight, but the Indians, showing no fear, posted themselves 
among the rocks at some distance from the scene of the last skirmish, 
and coolly waited for their adversaries. Exhausted ammunition had 




GENERAL WILLrAM I. oMEkMAN 




p. H SHERIDAN 




GtiNERAL HOaeRT E. LEE 



KIT CARSON. 



77 



been the cause of the retreat of Carson and his force, but now, with a 
renewed supply and an addition of fresh men to the force, they advanced 
on foot to drive the Indians from their hiding places. The contest was 
desperate and severe, but powder and ball eventually conquered, and the 
Indians, once dislodged, scattered in every direction. The trappers con- 
sidered this a complete victory over the Blackfeet, for a large number of 




\ eHIEt IN WAR LOblLME 
their warriors were killed, and many more were wounded, while they 
had but three men killed, and a few severely wounded. 

We afterward find Carson at what was known as Bent's Fort, where 
he forsook trapping for several years, and became hunter to the fort 
supplying with his rifle food for the forty inmates of that place. When 
game was scarce, his task was sometimes difficult, but skill and experi- 
ence enabled him to triumph over every obstacle. It is not strange that 



78 KIT CARSON. 

with such long experience Carson became the most skilful of hunters, 
and won the name of the "Nestor of the Rocky Mountains." Among 
the Indians he had earned the undisputed title of "Monarch of the 
Prairies." 

It was while engaged as hunter for the fort, Carson took to himself 
an Indian wife, by whom he had a daughter, who forms the connecting 
link between his past hardships and his subsequent greatness ; for that 
he was emphatically a great man, the whole civilized world has acknowl- 
edged. The mother died soon after the daughter's birth, and Carson, 
feeling that his rude cabin was scarcely the place in which to rear his 
child, determined, when of a suitable age, to take her to St. Louis and 
secure for her those advantages of education which circumstances had 
denied to him ; and, accordingly, when his engagement at the fort had 
expired, he went to St. Louis for that purpose, embracing on the route 
the opportunit}^ of visiting the home of his boyhood, which he had not 
seen for sixteen j^eai's. 

SAD CHANGES IN HOME OF BOYHOOD. 

Of course, he found everything changed. Man}^ of those whom he 
had known as men and heads of families, were now grown old, while 
more had died off ; but by those to whom he was made known, he was 
recognized with a heartiness of welcome which brought tears to his eyes, 
though his heart was saddened at the changes which time had wrought. 
His fame had preceded him, and his welcome was, therefore, doubly cor- 
dialj for he had more than verified the promise of his 3'outh. 

Thence he proceeded to St. Louis, with the intention of placing his 
daughter at school, but here, to his great amazement, he found himself 
a lion ; for the advent of such a man in such a city, which had so often 
rung with his deeds of daring and suffering, could not be permitted to 
remain among its citizens unknown or unrecognized. He was courted 
and feted, and, though gratified at the attentions showered upon him, 
found himself so thoroughly out of his element, that he longed to return 
to more pleasant and more familiar scenes — his old hunting grounds. 



KIT GARSON. 79 

Having accomplistied the object of his visit to St. Louis, in placing 
his daughter under proper guardianship, he left the city, carrying with 
him pleasing, because merited, remembrances of the attentions paid to 
him, and leaving behind him impressions of the most favorable char- 
acter. Soon after he reached St. Louis, he had the good fortune to fall 
in with Colonel Fremont, who was there organizing a party for the 
exploration of the far western country, as yet unknown, and who was 
anxiously awaiting the arrival of Captain Drips, a well-known trader and 
trapper, who had been highly recommended to him as a guide. 

FREMONT SECURES CARSON FOR A GUIDE. 

Kit Carson's name and fame were as familiar as household words 
to Fremont, and he gladly availed himself of his proffered services in 
lieu of those of Captain Drips. It did not take long for two such men 
an John C. Fremont and Kit Carson to become thoroughly acquainted 
with each other, and the accidental meeting at St. Louis resulted in the 
cementing of a friendship which has never been impaired — won as it 
was on the one part by fidelity, truthfulness, integrity and courage, 
united to vast experience and consummate skill in the prosecution of the 
duty he had assumed — on the otner by every quality which commands 
honor, regard, esteem and high personal devotion. 

And now Carson's name is embodied in the archives of our country's 
history, and no one has been more ready to accord to him the credit he 
so well earned than Fremont, who had the good fortune to secure, at the 
same time, the services of the most experienced guide of his da}-, and 
the devotion of a friend. 

The adventures of Carson were henceforth to be shared by the great 
explorer, and the subjoined account of Fremont's expeditions only 
enhances the renown and splendid achievements of Kit Carson. 




CHAPTER III. 

JOHN C. FREMONT. 

STYLED "THE PATHFINDER" — TRIUMPH OVER 
GREAT DIFFICULTIES — PERSONAL COURAGE 
AND ENDURANCE— CELEBRATED EXPLORATIONS. 
"" NOMINATED FOR PRESIDENT. 

The di-scover}' and exploration of the large ter- 
ritorj' lying west of the Mississippi River are due 
to John C. Fremont more than to any other man, although it may be 
doubted whether he could have achieved such brilliant success except 
for the co-operation of Kit Carson, the intrepid hunter and guide. 

Fremont was apparently bom to be an explorer. Dangers did not 
appall him ; difficulties did not discourage him ; wild Indians did not 
daunt his splendid courage ; hardships did not weaken his firm resolu- 
tion. He planted the Stars and Stripes on the highest peak of the Rocky 
Mountains. 

He was born at Savannah, Georgia, Januar}^ 31, 1813. He was a 
remarkably bright boy, and at the age of fifteen, entered Charleston 
College, South Carolina. For two or three years after leaving college 
he was a teacher of mathematics on some of our naval schoolships. The 
interest in opening up the country and building railroads had grown 
very fast, and Fremont decided to leave the sea and become a Govern- 
ment surveyor and civil engineer. He helped to la}' out the railroad 
routes through the mountain passes of North Carolina and Tennessee, 
and after that he was one of a party that explored some of the then 
unknown sections of Missouri. 

Before this latter work was finished, he was promoted to the rank of 
^econd lieutenant of the map-making or topographical engineers ; and 
80 



JOHN C. FREMONT. 



81 



three years later, when he was twenty-eight years old, he had an unlooked- 
for appointment from the Government to explore and survey the Des 
Moines River. Mr. Fremont was deeply in love just then with 
young Miss Jessie Benton, a daughter of a United States Senator from 
Missouri. Her parents were much opposed to liaving her marry a Gov- 
ernment officer; so it was with a heavy heart that the young man set out 
for the frontier wilderness of Iowa, and the land of the Sacs and Fox 
Indians along the Des Moines banks. 

He did his work well, and when 
he returned in the fall, the Bentons 
agreed that, since he was in every 
waj- worthy as a man, they would 
forgive his being an officer, and con- 
sent to the marriage. This happy 
event was of importance to more peo- 
ple than themselves aloue ; for by 
her energy and powers of mind Mrs. 
Fremont was not oul}' a direct help 
to her husband in carrying out the 
most important explorations ever 
made under the United States Gov- 
ernment,but she cheered and encour- 
aged him to keep up heart and push 
on through many 3'ears of work and 
hardship, often clouded by injustice WARRIOR IN COSTUME OF DOG DANCE, 
and disappointment. The expedition to the Des Moines settled the piir- 
pose of Mr. Fremont's life. 

He then learned enough of the great Western countr}- to know that 
the Government and the citizens who were gathered along the Atlantic 
seaboard really knew almost nothing of the truth about the uninhabited 
portions of their land ; that the extravagant tales which had been told 
by adventurous traders and travelers were mostly false ; that probably 
a great portion of the country could be used for farm lands and manu- 

6 




82 JOHN C. FREMONT. 

facturing towns, and that railwa}^ routes could probably be laid across 
the whole continent. Filled with a desire to open up these treasures of 
knowledge, he applied to the War Department for permission to survey 
the whole of the territory lying between the Missouri River and the 
Pacific Ocean. 

The request was granted and means provided for an expedition to be 
fitted out, especially to find a good route from the Eastern States to Cali- 
fornia, and to examine and survey the South Pass of the Rocky Moun- 
tains — the great crossing place for emigrants on the way to Oregon. It 
was his own wish to have this order, for he knew — though he did not 
then say so — that if the Government had this particular section explored 
and surveyed, it would fix a point iu the emigrants' travel, and also show 
an encouraging interest in their enterprise. On the 2d of Ma}', with his 
instructions and part of his supplies. Lieutenant Fremont left Washing- 
ton for St. Louis, which was then a good-sized town on the borderland of 
the Western wilderness, and already a commercial centre. 

EXPEDITION OF HARDY EXPLORERS. 

There he collected his party and finished fitting out the expedition. 
About twenty men joined him — mostly Creoles and Canadians who had 
been employed as traders for fur companies, and who were used to the 
Indians and all the hardships of the rough life they should have to lead. 
Besides these men, he had a well-known hunter, named Maxwell, for their 
guide, and the celebrated mountaineer, Christopher Carson — or Kit Car- 
son, as he was usually called — who was both bold and cautious, and knew 
more about the West than almost any h-unter in the country. 

This was the little band that, armed and mounted, set out with their 
gallant leader on his first exploring expedition. They found him a man 
full of determination and self-reliance, having skill and patience and 
many resources, and who grew stronger in his purpose when perils and 
discouragements lay in his path. His men were well chosen, spirited 
and adventurous, while most of them were also hardy and experienced. 
]\lost of the party rode on horseback, but some drove the mule carts that 



JOHN C. FREMONT. 83 

arried the baggage, instruments and what food it was thought necessary 
Lo take along. Tied to the carts were a few loose horses and some oxeu 
to be killed on the way for fresh meat. After they had crossed Missouri 
.: iid reached Chouteau's Landing — where Kansas City now stands— they 

<:lt that their journey was really begun. 

Starting here at the mouth of the Kansas, they followed its winding 
course across the northeastern corner of Kansas State, and pushed on 
• • to Nebraska, until they reached the barren banks of the Platte. Then 
Luey followed that stream, taking the direction of the Southern fork, 
when they reached the division, and following where it led almost to 
Long's Peak. Then they changed their line of march, and keeping near 
the banks of the Northern fork, pushed on to Fort Laramie. 

FRIENDLY MEETING WITH THE INDIANS. 

This was reached in safety in the middle of July, the travelers 
having had only one great buffalo fight and one encounter with the 
Arapahoe Indians in the course of their journey. The meeting with the 
Indians turned out a friendly one, though it would not have been so 
but for ^laxwell, who had traded with the tribe, and knowing the war- 
riors, shouted to the leader in the Arapahoe language, just in time to 
prevent a irsiy. The chief was riding on furiously, but at the sound of 
words in his own speech from the white men, he wheeled his horse round, 
recognized Maxwell, and gave his hand to Fremont in a friendly 
salute. 

At Fort Laramie reports were heard of trouble among the Indians 
and white people between the Platte and the Rock}^ Mountains, and the 
explorers were told that their lives would be in danger if the}' went any 
further west until matters were quiet again. But Fremont and his men 
thought that probably the stories were exaggerated, and resolved not to 
be daunted by them. So, after a few days of rest, they got ready to start 
out. Just as they were about to depart, four friendly chiefs appeared 
with a letter, warning Fremont of danger from bands of young warriors 
if he went further. 



84 



JOHN C. FREMONT. 



He received their warning very respectfull}', as well as thanking 
them for their kindness, and also made a pretty little speech in answer 
to theiis t "When )^ou told us that your young men would kill us," he 
said. ' 3'ou did not know that our hearts were strong and you did not see 
the rifles which my young men carry in their hands. We are few, and 
you are many and may kill us, but there will be much crying in your 

villages, for many of your young 
men will stay behind, and forget to 
return with your warriors from the 
mountains. Do you think that our 
great chief" — meaning the Presi- 
dent — '' will let his soldiers die and 
forget to cover their graves ? Be- 
fore the snows melt again, his war- 
riors will sweep away your villages 
as the fire does the prairie in the 
autumn. See! I have pulled down 
my white houses, and my people 
are ready ; when the sun is ten 
paces higher we shall be on the 
march. If you have anything to 
tell us you will say it soon." 

The chiefs were not expecting 
such words in repl}^ but thev liked 
.MANDAN INDIAN CHIEF. the bold spirit of the white man 

from the East, and what they soon had to say was that they would 
send one of their young warriors to guide the party. It was a 
little favor of only one man, but it was everything to the explorers, for 
— as both they and the Indians knew — his presence in the party was 
sure protection for them against all the savages they might meet. 
Fremont heartilj- accepted the courtes}', and at evening the com- 
pany set out for the distant region of the Rockies. 

Now their real difficulties began. Soon they entered a most deso- 




■■*iv 




JOHN C. FREMONT. 



86 



\' 



:]X\ 



late countn', where, the interpreter assured them, they were likel}' to die 
of starvation if they went very far. They had only food enough left to 
last for ten days, and the gallant leader called his men together and told 
them that he intended to push on, but that all who wished to had his 
permission to turn back. "Not a man," he says, ''ilinched from his under- 
taking." One or two, who were not ver}^ strong, he sent back to the 
nearest fort, but the rest kept close to him till their aim was reached. 
■' When our food is gone, we'll eat the horses," said one of them. 

The most difficult part of the whole 
expedition was now ahead of them, and it 
ivas necessary to go as lightly weighted as 
possible ; so they hid all the luggage they 
could spare in the bushes or buried it in 
the billows of sand that were banked up 
near the Wind River. Then the^- care- 
fully removed all traces of what they had 
done so the Indians would not discover 
their stores and steal them. A few days' 
march brought them to the water-shed of 
the Pacific and Mississippi slopes, and 
then to the object of their search — the 
great, beautiful South Pass. 

Instead of the rocky height they had 
expected, they saw a gently risiug sand}- plain stretched beyond the 
gorge, and the much-dreaded crossing of the Rockies was an easy matter. 
Entering the Pass and going up into the mountains, they found the 
sources of many of the great rivers that flow to the Pacific. Further on, 
they discovered a beautiful ravine, beyond which lay the fair water called 
Mountain Lake— " set like a gem in the mountains," and feeding one of 
the branches of the Colorado River. 

The expedition had now fulfilled its orders from the Government, 
but the leader did not give the word to return until he had gone up the 
lofty height of Wind River Peak — now known as Fremont's Peak— that 




ONE OF FREMONT'S GUIDES. 



86 



JOHN C FREMONT. 



stands in majestic grandeur near the Pass. The summit was reached 
a'fter a most difficult climb, and Fremont himself was the first white man 
to stand on its narrow crest, and to look out upon the country from the 
highest point in the Rocky Mountains. 

On one side lav numberless lakes and streams, giving their waters 
into the Colorado, which sweeps them on to the Gulf of California ; iu 




FREMONT'S EXPLORING EXPEDITION APPROACHING ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 

the other direction he saw the lovely valley of the Wind River, the 
romantic home from which the Yellowstone carries its waters to the 
Missouri, awa}' to the east ; in the north he saw the snow-capped summits 
of the Trois Tetons, where the Missouri and the Columbia rise, and the 
lower peaks that guard the secret of the Nebraska's birth. 

Between, beA-ond and all around were lesser peaks, gorges, rugged 
cliffs, and great walls of mountain rock, broken into a thousand bold, 
fantastic figures, and standing up in weird and striking grandeur. A 
thousand feet below him, steep, shining ice-precipices towered above fields 



JOHN C. FREMONT. 87 

of snow, gleaming spotless white. "We stood," said Fremont, "where 
human foot had never stood before, and felt the thrill of first explorers." 
When the travelers were again at the base of the peak, and all their 
explorations and discoveries had been carefully noted, and their speci- 
mens of rock, plants and flowers gathered together, they turned their 
faces homeward. They found their hidden stores, made up their train 
once more, found the camp of the men who had remained behind, and, 
glad with their success, took up the eastward march. 

GREAT INTEREST IN FREMONT'S DISCOVERIES. 

A full report of the expedition was soon sent to Congress, and in a 
short time Fremont's discoveries became a ssibject of great interest in 
both Europe and America. From Fremont's Peak he had brought some 
of the flowers that he found growing beside his path ; a bee that had 
flown up to them soon after they reached the summit ; the rock that 
formed the peak, and the rugged, shelving mountain, above which it 
reared its icy, snow-capped head. Over the whole course of his extended 
trip, he obtained the height both of plains and mountains, latitude and 
longitude ; he reported the face of the country, whether it was fertile or 
barren, whether traveling over it was easy or diflicult, and the practi- 
cability of certain routes for public highways. 

The grand features of nature were clearly described in fittir g lan- 
guage, and in some cases he illustrated them by drawings. Military 
positions were pointed out, and in all other ways a thorough examination 
and sui-vey was made of a vast portion of the national possessions which, 
up to this time, had been unused, unknown and unappreciated. Europe 
and America praised the manner in which the expedition had been man- 
aged, and the Government, well pleased with the wonderful results he 
had obtained, appointed Lieutenant Fremont to set out on another journey 
at once, and to complete the survey between the State of Missouri and 
the tide-water regions of the Columbia River. 

This was just what he wanted to do. A trip to the top of Wind 
River Peak and back had but revealed to him what vast secrets of the 



88 



JOHN C. FREMONT. 



Western countr}' there were yet to be discovered, and lie lost no time in 
getting ready to leturn. With some of his old companions and several 
new ones, he soon made up a band of about fort\- men, who left Kansas 
with him just one year after the first expedition had started. The route 

this time lay in a 
northwesterly direc- 
tion — before, it had 
been almost west. 

In four months 
they traveled over 
seventeen hundred 
miles, reaching the 
Great Salt Lake 
early in theautunm, 
and before winter 
began they had 
found the Columbia 
and followed it to its 
mouth. The same 
careful observations 
and surveys were 
taken along the route 
of this journe}' as 
had made the other 
so valuable, especi- 
ally in the region of 
FREMONT AT A POINT ON THE COLUMBIA RIVER. the Great Salt Lake, 
about which no true accounts had ever been given before. 

Although Fremont had fulfilled the orders of the Government when 
he reached the mouth of the Columbia, this was reall}^ but a small part 
of what he intended to do upon this expedition. The vast region bej'ond 
the Rocky Mountains — the whole western slope of our continent — was 
but little known then in au}' way, and not at all with accurate, scientific 




JOHN C. FREMONT. 89 

knowledge. This, Fremont longed to go through and explore. At first 
he intended to begin doing so by returning home through the Great 
Basin — now Utah — between the Rocky Mountains and the Sierra Nevada ; 
but he took another direction finally — a route through almost an unknown 
region between the Columbia and Colorado — that led them further west, 
showed them California, and resulted, at a later time, in securing to the 
United States that rich country, which was then owned by Mexico. 

TERRIBLE JOURNEY OF FORTY DAYS. 

The cold winter came on almost before they had started, and they 
had not gone far before they found themselves in a desert of snow where 
there was nothing for either men or horses to eat, while between them and 
the fertile valleys of California was the rugged, snow-covered range of 
the Sierra Nevada Mountains. They tried to get some of the Indians to 
show them the way over this great barrier ; but the savages declared that 
it could not be crossed — no human being had ever crossed it, and no 
guide would consent to go with them for any amount of mone}-. But they 
said there was an opening further south, and gave Fremont some direc- 
tions as to where it might be found. So the party took the risk of guiding 
themselves, and kept on in their cold and desolate march. 

When they reached the pass, it was only to see toward the west a 
still greater range before them. It was plain that they would get lost if 
they attempted to push on alone, and they had gone too far now to turn 
back. At last they found a young Indian, who, for a ver}?- large present, 
would undertake to guide them. On the ist of February they started 
out, and after a terrible journey of forty days they reached the Sacra- 
mento River, and a comfortable resting-place at Sutter's Fort, the place 
where gold was found four years later. Half of their horses had perished, 
and the men were so weak and thin that it was two mouths before thej 
were able to go on again. 

Fremont did not attempt to go any further into California ; but when 
spring opened and the men were well enough to travel, gave the word for 
home. They crossed the Sierra Nevada, and making their route as nearly- 



90 JOHN C. FREMONT. 

due east as possible, they passed by tbe Great Salt Lake, crossed tbe 
Rocky jMouutains through the South Pass, halted at several places they 
had become acquaiuted with before, aud reached the Kausas countr}' in 
Jul}'. There the ground was known to them, and the rest of the journey 
was quite smoothly and quickly made. 

By midsummer Fremont had reported himself to the Government 
and was once more with his family. He learned then that a letter of 
recall had been sent to him after he started ; but that his wife held it 
back, seeing that it was upon some false charges, made b}' his enemies, 
at Washington. So he had really made this journey as a fugitive, but 
Mrs. Fremont's act was approved when her husband returned with a name 
that went over Europe and America for the great and valuable discoveries 
he had made in the northwest territory, and the terrible hardships he had 
endured to make the expedition successful. 

PROMOTED FOR HIS GRAND DISCOVERIES. 

In spite of the efforts that were made against him by some political 
opponents, Congress accepted his labors, gave him another appointment, 
and when he again went out — which was as soon as his reports were fin- 
ished — it was with the rank and title of captain in the United States 
Bngineers. His object this time was to iind out more about the Salt 
Lake and other portions of the Great Basin, and to explore the coasts of 
California and Oregon. After several months of discovery and careful 
surveys of the streams and watersheds between, he again crossed the 
Sierra Nevada in midwinter aud went down into the rich and beautiful 
country lining the Pacific shore. 

This territory was then held by the Mexicans, and while he left his 
men at San Joaquin to rest, Fremont himself went on to Monterey, the 
capital, to ask of Governor Castro permission to explore his country. 
The request was granted at first, but as news of war between the 
United States and Mexico arrived just then, the permission was recalled 
with orders that the travelers leave the countrv at once. But this the 
dauntless captain did not intend to do, so he built a rude fort of logs in a 



JOHN C. FREMONT. 91 

strong position on the Hawk's Peak Mountain, about thirty miles from 
Montere}^, and with his sixty-two men waited for an attack from the 
Mexican forces, which, under General Castro, encamped themselves in 
the plain below. 

They watched him for four days and then deciding not to fight, 
allowed him to go on his way through the Sacramento Valley to Oregon. 
Before he had gone very far he was met by a party that had been sent out 
to find him, with orders from the United States to act for his nation in 
case Mexico should form a treaty with England to pass California into 
the hands of Great Britain. 

General Castro soon threatened to attack the Americans settled along 
the Sacramento, but before he had time to do so. Captain Fremont 
marched rapidly to their rescue, collecting them in his band as he went 
along, so that by the month of July the whole of northern California had 
passed out of the hands of the Mexicans and into those of the United 
States, and Fremont, the conqueror, was made governor of the land and 
raised to the rank of lieutenant-colonel in the army. 

SURRENDERED TO THE UNITED STATES. 

Meanwhile the Government had resolved to make a sweeping con- 
quest of the rest of the territory, if possible, and have our possessions 
extend from ocean to ocean. Commodore Sloat, who commanded the 
United States squadron on the Pacific, seized Monterey, where Fremont 
soon joined him with a hundred and sixty mounted riflemen ; and at about 
the same time there arrived Commodore Stockton, of the navy, with orders 
from Congress to conquer California. The Mexicans still held the south- 
ern portion of the territory, but the towns of San Francisco, Monterey, 
and Los Angeles were all taken without much resistance, and at the end 
of six months Upper California was surrendered to the United States. 

When this was about completed General Kearney arrived with a 
force of dragoons, and disputed Commodore Stockton's right to be mili- 
tary governor of the territory. A quarrel arose, in which Fremont took 
the side of the commodore, who had made him major of the California 



92 



JOHN C. FREMONT. 



battalion, and civil governor of the country ; but when the matter was 
carried to Washington and settled by the Government in favor of Kear- 
ney, he recognized his position and obeyed his orders. But the general 
would not forgive his former allegiance to Commodore Stockton, and 
arrested him and made him return to Washington with his own men by 
the overland route, treating him very disrespectfully all the way. 

"My charges^" said Fremont, ''are of misconduct, military, civil, 

political, and moral, 
L^=^== and such that, if true, 
zjjij would make me unfit 
to be anywhere out- 
side of prison." He 
demanded a trial by 
court-martial, which 
might have cleared 
him if he had taken 
£H pains to get evideitce 
upon his innocence ; 
btit as he did not, 
- =^^ he was pronounced 
SdUTiiwi-.sT i-ROM SANTA FE. g^ii^t}^ of mutiny 

and disobedience and ordered to leave the Government service. 

But the court requested President Polk not to confirm their verdict ; 
he did not, and granted Fremont a pardon, with permission to keep his 
position in the army. This he would not accept ; he refused to receive 
as a favor that to which he had a right, or to go about as an officer par- 
doned of offenses he had never committed. So he resigned his commis- 
sion, and at the age of thirt3'-five, became a private citizen. 

Although he was still a young man, it seemed to him for a time that 
he had nothing to look forward to in life ; but he soon made up his mind 
to undertake another exploring expedition. This had to be on hi.'? own 
responsibility and at his own expense ; but he soon sticceeded in getting 
a party together and fitting it out. 




JOHN C. FREMONT. 



93 



He was doublj^ auxious now to find some good routes from the States 
to the new possessions on the Pacific, for in February of this year — 1848 — 
gold had been found on the Sacramento River, and many people were 
already starting out to dig for the precious ore. So far there was no 
direct route to California. A long and dangerous journe\' across Kan- 
sas, Colorado, Utah and Nevada, and through the Rockies and Sierras, 
could be made by land, or a voyage by way of the Isthmus of Panama 
could be made by water. These were 
the best possible ways of getting there. 
Fremont's desire was to find a route 
which could be made into a safe and direct 
public line of travel, and it was with 
this object in view that he soon started 
out with his little band. This time he 
went to the Soiith, crossing the northern \ 
part of Mexico, and following the Rio 
Grande del Norte toward California. The 
beginning of the journey as far as Santa |'i\\ 
Fe was made successfully; but from ^^ 
there it became a tour of distress — the 
saddest Fremont ever undertook. 

The route la}^ through a country 
inhabited by Indians then at war with an early miner in California. 
the United States, which was danger enough ; but, added to this, 
winter was just coming on, and while they were in the most perilous part 
of their journey, among the snow-covered Sierra, the guide lost his way. 
Finally they were forced to turn back, but before they could get to Santa 
Fe one-third of their men had died of cold and hunger, and all of their 
mules and horses had perished. 

Even this terrible experience did not alter Fremont's resolve to find, 
if possible, a southern pass to the Pacific coast. He hired thirty new 
men to go with him and once more set out, more determined to succeed 
than ever. After a long search he was rewarded, for in the spring of 




^kmi^;^^- 



94 JOHN C. FREMONT. 

1849 — when the gold fever was getting to its height — with the cruel Sierra 
behind him, he again came in sight of the Sacramento River. 

Two years before he had bought a very large tract of land, on which 
there were rich gold mines, and he had resolved, when he left the States, 
to remain upon these after he had found a southern pass, and not go back 
to the East to live. So now he settled down, worked his mines, and began 
to prepare a home for his family. The enthusiasm about gold was draw- 
ing thousands of men to the Territory from all parts of America and 
from Europe, so that California soon had enough people to become a 
State. Fremont took a great deal of interest in this growth in the coun- 
try he had discovered to the United States and won for the Government, 
and he worked very earnestly to have it made a free State. 

HIGH HONORS BESTOWED ON FREMONT. 

Meanwhile, he was not forgotten at Washington. President Tajdor 
soon called upon him to run a boundary line between the United States 
and Mexico, and when that was done, California haviug been taken into 
the Union, he was chosen by the Legislature to represent tlie new 
State in the Senate at the national capital. It was during this term 
that the King of Prussia and the Royal Geographical Society of 
London awarded him the honor of their medals for his services as an 
explorer. 

■ He went to Europe after his term was over, and was treated with 
great respect by many of the most eminent people of the time. Mr. Fre- 
mont spent a few years at about this time in looking after his own affairs, 
but he had not yet given up exploring the great territory of the West. 
When — on his return from Europe — he found the Government preparing 
to survey three railroad routes across the continent, he again fitted out 
an expedition of his own to find a good southern route to the Pacific. 
This time he was successful. 

He went without much difficulty to the place where the guide had 
lost his way iu the expedition of 1848, and, following the course, which 
had been described to him by the mountain men whom he asked, he 



JOHN C. FREMONT. 



95 





finally succeeded in picking out a route of safe passes all the way to 
tlie Golden State. But this was not secured without terrible hardships. 
Tlie couiitr}' was barren, bleak and cold ; the provisions of the part}- 
gave out, and for fift}^ da3's the men lived on the flesh of their horses. 
Sometimes they had nothing at all to eat for forty-eight hours at a time. 

Progress, too, was slow. For awhile they only made a hundred 
miles in ten days ; and so deserted was the region that for three times 

that distance, they , _ — ^ 

did not meet a single ^ --^ 

human being, not 

even a hardy Indian, 

for the winter was 

unusually severe, 

and even the savages 

did not venture far 

into the dangerous 

passages, where the 

air was full of snow 

and fogs. 

In this terrible 
distress Fremont 
feared that his men 
would be tempted to 
eat each other, and so 
he called them to 
him one day, and in 
the solemn, stillness of the great ice mountains he made them take off 
their hats, raise their hands to heaven and swear that they would 
instantly shoot the first man that should attempt to appease his hunger 
with the flesh of a comrade. 

Little by little they kept pushing on, and at last all obstacles were 
overcome, the fair California valle^-s were reached, and the jaded, frost- 
bitten band entered San Francisco. One man only was missing. He, 





ll|^??N 



J*S*'k ^ 






INDIANS VIEWING A TRAIN OF CARS ON THE CENTRAL 
PACIFIC RAILROAD. 



96 JOHN C. FREMONT. 

poor fellow, was courageous to the last, and died like a soldier, in liis 
saddle ; and like a soldier his comrades buried him on the spot where 
he fell. 

The rest, though worn almost to skeletons, survived, and Fremont 
forgot his sufferings in the joy of having gained the object of his journey. 

BELTS OF IRON FROM THE ATLANTIC TO THE PACIFIC. 

The Central Pacific Railroad was begun in a few years, and the 
region being richly stored with vast quantities of iron, coal and timber, 
the workmen were supplied with much of their materials as they went 
along. In a dozen years more the great task was completed, and cars 
were running from East to West, carrying tourists and emigrants by the 
thousands and spreading prosperity and civilization to the benefit of, not 
this nation alone, but of all people in the civilized world. The Northern 
and the Southern Pacific roads have followed the first one, opening up 
other sections, and calling forth and using the resources of the land all 
the way across the continent, placing our country first among all coun- 
tries in several of the most important articles in the world's commerce. 

Among all the men who have devoted themselves to the success of 
these roads, there is no one to whom the nation owes more than to 
Fremont — who first surve^-ed the regions — northern, central and southern, 
and who well merits the title, tlie "Path-finder of the Rocky Mountains." 

The survey of the Central Pacific was the last great exploration of 
his life. In 1856 he was almost elected President b}' the then new 
Republican party, in the contest with James Buchanan ; he was also 
named for the next President, but withdrew in favor of Lincoln. -lAt the 
beginning of the Civil War he was made major-general in the army, and 
during the first year had command of the Department of the Mississippi. 
He lost this because he ordered that slaves should be freed by sll in his 
district who were in arms against the Union. President Lincoln thought 
he was taking the step too soon, but gave him another command a few 
months later, from which he resigned in June, and left the conflict 
entirely. Fremont died July 13, 1890. 




PART II. 

GREAT NAVAL HEROES 



CHAPTER IV. 

CAPTAIN JOHN PAUL JONES. 

HERO OF A DESPERATE FIGHT — HIS RECKLESS BRAV- 
ER\ — HAND TO HAND ENCOUNTER — MANY THRILL- 
ING ADVENTURES — AWARDED MEDAL BY CONGRESS. 

Our American navy, both iu its early and later history, has gained 
magnificent victories. Its superb achievements on the sea have rivalled 
the heroic exploits of our military forces on land. The grand qualities 
that make up the highest type of sailor have been exhibited manv times 
from the period of the Revolution down to our war with Spain. 

One of the most desperate fights on the water occurred between the 
warship Serapis and the Bonhomme Richard. It was the first naval 
engagement that proved the prowess of the American sailor, and gave 
our heroes of the sea a renown that forms the most glowing record of 
our history. This remarkable action is interesting not only on account 
of its bloody and desperate character, and on account of the sensation it 
produced at the time, but because it illustrates one phase of our great 
struggle for independence. 

The hero of this action, John Paul, was born at Kirkcudbright, in 
Scotland, July 6th, 1747 ; and was sent to sea, as an apprentice, at the age 
of twelve. He afterwards made voyages as mate of a slaver, then an 
honored and recognized employment for a portion of the English mer- 
chant marine. At twent3^-one he had command of a vessel in the West 
India trade, so that his merits as a seaman were early recognized. He 
afterwards became a trader in a vessel of his own. At the age of twenty- 
7 'J 7 



98 JOHN PAUL JONES. 

six he left the sea ; and adopted the name of Jones. The reason for 
this does not clearly appear. He may have had some old scores to clear; 
and, settling in a new world, may have thought a new name necessary. 
In December, 1775, he was appointed a first lieutenant in the 
United Colonial Navy, and ordered to the Alfred, our first flag-ship. He 
hoisted the first flag of the Colonies afloat ; a yellow flag, with the pine 
tree and rattlesnake. In this ship he participated in several actions and 
was afterwards in command of the Providence, when he only escaped 
capture by excellent seamanship. He made many prizes in this ship. 

CAPTURED MANY VALUABLE PRIZES. 

On October loth, 1776, he was named the eighteenth naval captain, 
and, in command of the Alfred and Providence, captured a valuable 
armed ship, and other prizes, again eluding recapture by good seaman- 
ship. He next went to European waters in command of the Ranger, 18, 
and there received from a French squadron, the first salute to the Stars 
and Stripes, h\ this time adopted. 

He cruised in English waters, burning ships at White Haven, and 
spiking- guns in batteries on shore ; and then attempted to carr}' off" 
the Earl of Selkirk. In this he failed, but having carried off some of 
that nobleman's plate, was branded by the English as a pirate. This 
epithet came with a bad grace from a nation then celebrated for thorough 
"looting" of every place which came into their hands, in India, and 
elsewhere. The real offence was that Jones was an Engli.sh subject, 
who had renounced his allegiance, and was serving against the mother 
conntr}- ; like all the rest of those engaged in the Revolution. During 
this cruise in the Ranger he took the Drake, of 20 guns. 

After this he received from the French government an old India- 
man, called the Due de Duras, which he renamed the " Bouhomme 
Richard," or Poor Richard, m allusion to the publication by Benjamin 
Franklin. He had some other armed vessels, mostlv " letters of marque," 
under his command. 

The Bouhomme Richard had 40 guns, and a mixed crew, of various 



JOHN PAUL JONES. 99 

uationalities. Joues sailed under such hauiperiug restrictions that lie 
was prevented from carrying out many promising projects ; but at last, 
on the 23d of September, he fell in with a Baltic fleet of merchantmen, 
convo3'ed bv the English frigate Serapis, 44 guns, and the Countess of 
Scarborough, 20 guns. The result of the engagement which ensued 
will be given hereafter. 

DRIVEN BACK BY A SEVERE GALE. 

To continue the sketch of Joues himself, we may say that, in 1780, 
the year after this action, he sailed for the United States, in the Ariel, 
but lost his masts in a severe gale of wind, and was obliged to return to 
France ; whence he sailed again and arrived safely, about the beginning 
of 1 78 1. He was then launched in the America, 74 guns, which was pre- 
sented by our Government to the French ; and he made a cruise in her 
as a volunteer. 

In 1783 he was prize agent of the United States in Europe ; and 
finally, in 1787, while in Denmark, he resigned, and entered the Russian 
navy — hoisting his flag, as rear admiral, in the Vladimir, on the 28th 
of June, 1788. He found so much jealousy and enmity towards him 
that he resigned in about a year, x^fterwards he resided in Holland and 
France, and was appointed Commissioner of the United States to Algiers 
— biit his death occurred at this time, at the age of forty-five. 

And now, to return to his cruise in the Bonhomme Richard : — Paul 
Jones had obtained so much celebrity for his cruise in the Ranger, that, 
after that ship departed for America he remained in France, in the hope 
of receiving a more important command. During the years 1778-9 
various projects were discussed, in which he was to have a part. One 
idea was to make a descent upou Liverpool, with a body of troops to be 
commanded by La Fayette. These plans all came to nothing, and his 
offers of service were repulsed ; until at last a singular arrangement was 
proposed to him. 

M. de Sartine, French Minister of Marine, in a letter of February, 
14th, ^IfQ, states that the king of France has decided to purchase, aud 



100 JOHN PAUL JONES. 

put at the disposition of Captain Jones, the Duras — an old Indiaman of 
some size, then at 1' Orient. To this vessel were added three more, pro- 
cured by means of M. le Ray de Chaumont, a banker who had connec- 
tions with the French Ministry. Dr. Franklin, who, as Minister of the 
United States, was supposed, in a legal sense, to direct the whole affair, 
added the Alliance, 32, b}' virtue of authority from Congress. 

THE SHIPS AND THEIR COMMANDERS. 

The vessels thus procured formed a little squadron, composed of the 
Bonhomme Richard, Alliance, Pallas, Cerf, and Vengeance. The Pallas 
was a purchased merchantman ; the Vengeance a small purchased brig ; 
the Cerf was a large cutter, and, with the exception of the Alliance, the 
only vessel of the squadron built for war purposes. All but the Alliance 
were French built, and they were placed under the American flag by the 
following arrangement : the officers received appointments, which were 
to remain valid for a limited period only, from Dr. Franklin, who had 
been furnished blank commissions, to fill at his own discretion, ever since 
he had arrived in Europe. 

The vessels were to show the American ensign and no other. In 
short, the French ships were to be considered as American ships during 
this particular service : and when it was terminated they were to revert 
to their former owners. The laws and provisions made for the American 
navy were to govern, and command was to be exercised, and to 
descend, according to its usage. Such officers as already had rank in the 
American nav}^ took precedence, agreeably to dates of commission, and 
new appointments were regulated by priority of appointment. 

By especial provision, Captain Jones was to be commander-in-chief, 
a post which his original commission entitled him to fill, as Captain 
Landais, the only other regular captain in the squadron, was his junior. 
The joint right of the American Minister and of the French Government 
to direct the movements of the squadron was recognized. 

It is not exactly known from what source the money was obtained 
to fit out this squadron ; and it is likely that it never will be known. 




GENERAL JOHN C. FREMONT, THE RENOWNED EXPLORER 




ADMIRAL JOHr: (^AUL JONES 



JOHN PAUL JONES. 101 

especially as the French Revolution destroyed so many records, public 
and private. Although the name of the king was used, it is possible 
that private adventure was at the bottom of the enterprise, although the 
French Government furnished vessels and the use of its stores. Dr. 
Franklin expressly stated that he made no advances for the ships 
employed. 

As everything connected with this remarkable expedition has inter- 
est for us, it is as well to go a little further into the composition of the 
force fitted out by Jones. After many delays, the Bonhomme Richard 
was equipped and manned. It was intended to cast i8-pounders for her, 
but as that would take too much time, old 12's were substituted. With 
this change in armament, the Richard, as she was called by the sailors, 
got ready for sea. She was, properly, a single-decked ship, that is, carry- 
ing her armament on one gun-deck, with the usual additious on the 
quarter-deck and forecastle. 

PLACES GUNS IN POSITION FOR THE FIGHT. 

But Commodore Jones, with a view to attacking the enemy's large 
convoys, caused 12 ports to be cut in the gun-room, below, where six old 
i8-pounders were mounted, with the intention of fighting all of them on 
the same side, in smooth water. It was foreseen that these guns could 
only be of use in moderate weather, or when engaged to leeward, but the 
ship's height admitted of them, and it was done. 

On her gun-deck proper the ship had twenty-eight ports, the regular 
construction of an English 38-gun ship at that time. Here the 12 
pounders were placed. On her quarter-deck and forecastle were mounted 
eight 9's ; making, iu all, a mixed armament, rather light, to be sure, of 
42 guns. If the six iS's were taken away, the ship would have been 
what was called a 32-gun frigate. She was a clumsy vessel, built many 
years before, with the high, old-fashioned poop, which resembled a tower. 

With a vessel of this singular armament and unwieldy construction, 
Jones was compelled to receive on board a crew of verv doubtful com- 
position. A few Americans filled ofi&cers' positious ; but the crew 



102 JOHN PAUL JONES. 

embraced representatives of more than twelve nationalities. To keep this 
motley crew in order, one hnndred and thirty-five marines, or soldiers, 
were put on board. These were nearly as much mixed, as to nation- 
alities, as the sailors. Just as the squadron was about to sail M. le Ray 
de Chaumont appeared at I'Orient, and presented a concordat or agree- 
ment, for the signature of all the commanders. This looked very much 
like a partnership in a privateering expedition, and was the cause of 
much after disobedience among Jones' captains. 

On June 19, 1779, the ships sailed, bound south, with a small convoy 
of vessels. These they escorted safely into the Garonne, and other ports; 
but not without repeated exhibition, thus early, of disobedience of orders, 
and unseamanlike conduct, which marked the whole career of this 
squadron, so ill assorted and manned. While Ij'ing to, off the coast, the 
Alliance, by lubberly handling, got foul of the Richard, and lost her 
mizzen-mast ; carrying away, at the same time, the head, cutwater and 
jib-boom of the Richard. This necessitated a return to port, to refit. 

EXPLOIT OF THE CUTTER CERF. 

When at sea again, and steering to the northward, the Cerf cutter 
was sent in chase of a strange sail, and parted company. The next morn- 
ing she engaged a small English cruiser, of 14 guns, and caused her to 
strike, after a sharp fight of an hour ; but she was forced to abandon her 
prize by the approach of an enemy's vessel of superior force. The Cerf 
went into I'Orient again. 

On the 23d three enemy's vessels-of-war were seen b}- the squadron; 
and, having the wind, the}' ran down in a line abreast, when, most proba- 
bly deceived by the height and general appearance of the Richard, they 
hauled up and escaped under a press of sail. On the 26th the Alliance 
and Pallas parted company with the Richard, leaving that ship with the 
Vengeance brig only, for consort. On reaching the Penmarks, a head- 
land of Finisterre, the designated rendezvous, the missing vessels did not 
appear. On the 29th, the Vengeance having gone by permission into 
Groix Roads, the Richard fell in with two more English cruisers, which. 



JOHN PAUL JONES. 103 

aftei' some hesitation, also ran, evidently under the impression that the 
Richard was a two-decker. 

Jones had reason to be satisfied with the spirit of his crew on this 
occasion, the people manifesting a strong disposition to engage. At last, 
on the 30th, the Richard ran into Isle Groix, oiif I'Orient; and about the 
same time the Pallas and Alliance came in. Then another delay occurred. 
A court was convened to inquire into the conduct of Captain Landais, of 
the Alliance, in running foul of the Richard. Both ships also had to 
undergo repairs. Luckil}-, just then a cartel arrived from England, 
bringing more than one hundred exchanged American seamen, most of 
whom joined the squadron. 

GALLANT YOUNG LIEUTENANT DALE. 

This was a most important accession to the crew of the Richard, aud 
that of the Alliance. Neither of tliese ships had had many Americans 
among their crews. Among those who came from the English prisons 
was Mr. Richard Dale, who had been captured as a master's mate, in the 
Ivcxington, 14 guns. This young officer did not reach France in the 
cartel, however, but had previously escaped, came to I'Orient, and joined 
the Richard. Jones soon learned his worth, and, in reorganizing his ship, 
had made him first lieutenant. 

The Richard had now nearly one hundred American seaman on 
board, and all the officers were native Americans, but the commander and 
one midshipman. Many of the petty officers were Americans also. In a 
letter of August i ith, Jones states that the crew of the Richard consisted 
of 380 souls, including 137 soldiers, or marines. On the 14th of August 
the squadron sailed a second time, from Groix Roads; having the FrencU 
privateers. Monsieur and Granville, in company, and under Jones' orders. 
The first parted company almost immediately, on account of differences 
concerning a valuable prize, and another was taken the day she left. 

On the 23d the ships were off Cape Clear, and while towing Richard's 
head round, in a calm, the crew of the boat, which happened to be manned 
by Englishmen, cut the tow-line and escaped. Mr. Lunt, the sailing- 



104 JOHN PAUL JONES. 

master, mauued another boat, and taking four marines, pursued the fugi- 
tives. A fog came on, and Mr. Lunt not being able to find the ships 
again, fell into the hands of the enemy. Through this desertion, and 
its immediate consequences, the Richard lost twenty of her best men. 

The day after this escape the Cerf cutter was sent close in, to recon- 
noitre, and to look for the missing people ; and, for some unexplained 
reason, this useful vessel never rejoined the squadron. There appeared to 
have been no suspicion of any treachery on her part, and we are left to 
conjecture the cause of her disappearance. A gale of wind followed, dur- 
ing which the Alliance and Pallas separated, and the Granville parted 
company, by order, with a prize. The separation of the Pallas was 
caused by the breaking of her tiller ; but tliat of the Alliance was due to 
the uuofficerlike and unseamaulike conduct of her commander. 

DESPERATE EFFORT TO AVOID CAPTURE. 

On the morning of the 27th, the brig Vengeance was the only vessel 
in company with the commodore. On August 31st, the Bo^ihomme 
Richard, being off Cape Wrath, the northwest extremity of Scotland, 
captured a large English letter-of-marque, bound from London to 
Quebec ; a circumstance which proves the expedients to which their 
shipmasters were then driven to avoid capture, this vessel having gone 
north about, to escape the cruisers on the ordinary track. While in 
chase of the letter-of-marque, the Alliance hove in sight, having another 
Loudon ship, from Jamaica as a prize. 

Captaiu Laudais, of the Alliance, was an officer who had been obliged 
to quit the French nav}' on account of his unfortunate temper. He now 
began to show a disorganizing and mutinous spirit ; pretending, as his 
ship was the only real American vessel in the squadron, that that fact 
rendered him superior to Jones, and that he should do as he pleased with 
his ship. That afternoon a strange sail was made, and the Richard 
showed the Alliance's number, with an order to close. Instead of obej'- 
ing the signal. Captain Laudais swore, and laid the head of his ship in 
the opposite direction. Other signals were disobeyed ; and the control 



JOHN PAUL JONES. 105 

of Commodore Jones over the ship, which ought to have been the most 
efficient of the squadron, ma}' be said to have ceased. 

Jones now shaped his course for the rendezvous he had appointed, 
in hopes of meeting the missing ships, and the Pallas rejoined him, 
having captured nothing. From then until the 13th of September the 
squadron continued its course round Scotland ; the ships separating and 
rejoining constant!}-, and Captain Landais assuming power over the 
prizes, as well as over his own vessel, that was altogether opposed to dis- 
cipline and to marine usage under the circumstances. 

PROJECT DEFEATED BY HEAVY GALE. 

On the 13th of September the Cheviot Hills were in sight from the 
ships. Understanding that a 20-gun ship, with two or three man-of-war 
cutters, were lying at anchor off Leith, in the Frith of Forth, Commodore 
Jones planned a descent upon that town. At this time the Alliance was 
absent, and the Pallas and Vengeance having chased to the southward, 
the uecessit}' of communicating with those vessels caused a fatal delay, 
and ruined a promising project. The attempt was at last made, but 
when the men were actually in the boats the ships were driven out of the 
Frith by a heavy blow; and when in the North Sea one of their plizes 
actually foundered. 

The design was so audacious that it is probable the English would 
have been taken by surprise ; and no doubt much damage would have 
been done to them, but for the gale. Dale, a modest, and prudent 
man, thought so. 

After this bold project was abandoned, Jones appears to have medi- 
tated another still more daring ; but his colleagues, as he bitterly styles 
his captains, refused ta'^ join in it. We do not know what it was ; but 
only that the officers of Jones' own ship heartily approved it. Jones' 
had much respect for the judgment of Captain Cottineau, of the Pallas, 
and as he disapproved of it, it was dropped. 

The Pallas and Vengeance even left the Richard — probably with a 
view to prevent the attempt to execute this nameless scheme ; and the 



106 JOHN PAUL JONES, 

comiuodore was compelled to follow his captains to the southward or lose 
them altogether. Off Whitby they came together again, and on Sep- 
tember 2 1st the Richard chased a collier ashore, near Flamborough 
Head. 

The next day she was at the mouth of the Humber, the Vengeance 
being in company, and several vessels were taken or destroyed. Pilots 
were enticed on board, and a knowledge of the state of things inshore 
obtained. It appeared that the whole coast was alarmed, and that many 
persons were bur3-ing their plate. By this time about a dozen vessels 
had been taken, and rumor increased the number. No vessels had ever 
before excited such local alarm on British shores, for centuries. 

SENT IN CHASE OF A BRIG. 

Under the circumstances Commodore Jones did not think it prudent 
to remain so close in with the land, and he accordingly stood out under 
Flamborough Head. Here he was joined, next day, by the Pallas and 
Alliance. This was on the 23d of September. 

The wind was light from the southward, the water smooth, and 
many vessels in sight, steering in different directions. About noon the 
squadron, with the exception of the Cerf and the two privateers, being 
all in company, Jones manned one of the pilot-boats he had detained, and 
sent her in chase of a brig, which was lying to, to windward. On board 
the little vessel were Mr. Lunt, the second lieutenant, and fifteen men, 
all of whom were absent from the ship for the rest of the day. 

In consequence of the loss of the two boats off Cape Clear, the 
absence of the party in the pilot-boat, and the number of men that had 
been put in prizes, the Richard was now left with only one lieutenant, and 
with but little more than three hundred souls on board, exclusive of pris- 
oners. Of the latter there were about one hundred and fifty in the 
Richard. 

The pilot-boat had hardly left the Richard when the leading ships 
of a fleet of more than forty sails were seen stretching out on a bowline 
from behind Flamborough Head, turning down to the south. From 



JOHN PAUL JONES. 107 

previous intelligence this fleet was immediately known to be the Baltic 
ships, nnder the convoy of the Serapis, 44 guns, Captain Richard Pearson, 
and a hired ship that had been put into the king's service, called the 
Countess of Scarborough. The latter was commanded by Captain 
Piercy, and mounted 22 guns. 

As the interest of the succeeding details will principally centre in 
the two ships, the Serapis and Bonhomme Richard, it may be well to 
give a more minute account of the actual force of the former. At 
that period 44's v>'ere usually built on two decks, and such was the con- 
struction of this ship, which was new, and was reputed to be a fast vessel. 
On her lower gun-deck she mounted 20 18-pound guns ; and on her upper 
gun-deck 20 9-pound guns ; and on her quarter-deck and forecastle ten 
6-pound guns ; making an armament of fifty guns. She had a regularly 
trained man-of-war's crew of 320 souls, of whom fifteen are said to have 
been Lascars, and was fully equipped for action. 

WARNING GIVEN OF A HOSTILE FORCE. 

When Jones made out the convoy, the men-of-war were inshore, 
astern, and to leeward, probably with a view to keeping the merchantmen 
together. The officials at Scarborough, perceiving the danger into which 
this fleet was running, had sent a boat off to the Serapis, to apprise her 
of the presence of a hostile force, and Captain Pearson fired two guns, 
signaling the leading vessels to come under his lee. These orders were 
disregarded, however, the headmost ships continuing to stand out from 
the land. 

Jones, having ascertained the character of the fleet in sight, showed 
signal for a general chase, and another to recall the lieutenant in the 
pilot-boat. The Richard then crossed royal yards. These signs of hos- 
tility alarmed the nearer English merchant ships, which hurriedly 
tacked, fired alarm guns, let fly their top-gallant sheets, and made other 
signals of the danger they found themselves in, while the}' now gladly 
availed themselves of the presence of the men-of-war to run to leeward, 
or else seek shelter close in with the land. 



108 JOHN PAUL JONES. 

The Serapis, on the contrary, signaled the Scarborough to follow, 
and hanled boldl}- out to sea, until she got far enough to windward, 
when she tacked, and stood inshore again to cover her convoy. 

The Alliance being much the fastest vessel of the American squad- 
ron, took the lead in the chase, speaking the Pallas as she passed. It 
has been proved that Captain Landais told the commander of the latter 
vessel on this occasion, that if the stranger proved to be a fifty-gun ship, 
the}' had nothing to do but to escape. His subsequent conduct fully 
confirms this, for no sooner had he run down near enough to the two 
English vessels-of-war to ascertain their force, than he hauled up and 
stood off from the land again. This was not only contrary to all regular 
order of naval battle, but contrary to the positive command of Jones, 
who had kept the signal to form line flying, which should have brought 
the Alliance astern of the Bonhomme Richard and the Pallas in the van. 
Just at this time the Pallas spoke the Richard, and inquired what station 
she should take, and she was directed at once to fall into line. 

THE RICHARD'S GALLANT CREW. 

Captain Cottineau was a brave man, who subsequently did his duty 
in the action, and he had only thought that, because the Richard had 
suddenly hauled up from the land, her crew had mutinied, and that she 
was being run away with. Such was the want of confidence in the 
force so singularl}- composed, and such were the disadvantages under 
wliich this celebrated combat was fought. So far, however, from medi- 
tating retreat or mutiny, the crew of the P.ichard had gone cheerfully 
to their quarters, although ever}' man on board was conscious of the 
force of the enemy with whom they were about to contend ; and the 
spirit of the commanding ofl&cer appears to have communicated itself to 
his men. 

It was now quite dark, and Jones was compelled to use a night- 
glass to follow the movements of the enemy. It is probable that the 
darkness added to the indecision of the Captain of the Pallas, for even 
after the moon rose it was thick, and objects at a distance were seen 




WASt-iiNGTOS 



' ^ u I I O S A r. Y WAR 




PUTNAM'S ESCAPE AT HORSE NECK 



JOHN PAUL JONES. 109 

with difficulty. The Richard continued to stand steadily on, and at 
about half-past seven she came up with the Serapis, the Scarborough 
being a short distance to leeward. The American ship was to wind- 
ward, and, as she slowly approached, Captain Pearson hailed. The 
answer returned was purposely equivocal, and both ships delivered 
their broadsides at almost the same moment. 

MANY KILLED BY BURSTING GUNS. 

As the water was quite smooth, Jones had relied very much upon the 
eighteen-pouuders which were in the Richard's gun-room ; but at this 
first discharge two of the six that were fired burst, blowing up the deck 
above and killing or wounding many of the people stationed below. This 
disaster rendered it impossible to make the men stand at the other heavy 
guns, as they could have no confidence in them. It at once reduced the 
broadside of the Richard to about one-third less than that of her opponent 
and the force which remained was distributed among the light guns in a 
disadvantageous manner. In short, the battle was now between a twelve- 
pounder and an eighteen-pounder frigate, with the chances almost pre- 
ponderatingly in favor of the latter. 

Jones himself said that after this accident his hopes rested solely 
upon the twelve-pounders that were immediately under the command of 
his First Lieutenant, Dale. The Richard, having backed her top-sails, 
exchanged several broadsides, when she filled again and shot ahead of 
the Serapis, which ship luffed across her stern and came up on the 
weather quarter of her antagonist, taking the wind out of her sails, and 
in her turn passing ahead. 

All this time, which was about half an hour, the fire was close and 
furious. The Scarborough now drew near, but it is uncertain whether 
she fired or not. The officers of the Richard state that she raked them 
at least once, but her commander reported that, owing to the smoke and 
darkness, he was afraid to discharge his guns, not being able to make out 
which ship was friend and which foe. 

Unwilling to lie by and be uselessly exposed to shot, Captain Piercy 



no JOHN PAUL JONES. 

edged awa}' from the combatants, exchanging one or two broadsides, at a 
great distance, with the Alliance, and shortlj^ afterward was engaged at 
close quarters b}- the Pallas, which ship compelled him to strike to her, 
after a creditable resistance of about an hour. 

Let us now return to the principal combatants. As the Serapis kept 
her luff, sailing and working better than the Richard, it was the inten- 
tion of Captain Pearson to pay broad off, across the Richard's fore-foot, as 
soon as he had got far enough ahead. But making the attempt, and find- 
ing he had not room, he put his helm down, to keep clear of his adver- 
sary-, and this double movement brought the two ships nearh- in a line, 
the Serapis leading, the Richard being dangerously near her foe. 

JONES RUNS HIS SHIP ON THE ENEMY. 

By these evolutions the English ship lost some of her waj-, while 
the American, having kept her sails trimmed, not only closed but actu- 
alh- ran on board of her antagonist, bows on, a little on her starboard 
quarter. The wind being light, much time was consumed in these 
manoeuvres, and nearly an hour had elapsed between the firing of the 
first gun and the moment wlien the vessels got foul of each other in 
the manner just described. The English thought it was the inten- 
tion of the Americans to board, and for some minutes it was uncertain 
whether they would do so or not, but the position was not safe for 
either part}- to pass into the opposing ship. 

There being at this time a complete cessation of the firing. Captain 
Pearson hailed and asked whether the Richard had struck. '' I have not 
yet begun to fight," was the answer from Jones. The Richard's 3-ards 
were then braced aback and, the sails of the Serapis being full, the ships 
separated. 

As soon as the}- were far enough apart, the Serapis put her helm 
hard down, laid all aback forward, shivered her after sails, and wore short 
round on her heel, with a view, most probabh-, of lufl&ng up across the 
Richard's bow, in order to rake her. In this position the Richard would 
have been fighting her starboard, and the Serapis her port guns ; but 



JOHN PAUL JOXES. 



Ill 



Jones, by this time, had become convinced of the hopelessness of success 
against so much heavier metal ; and so backed astern some distance, 
filled on the other tack, and luffed up, with the intention of meeting the 
enemy as he came to the wind, and of laying him athwart hawse. 

In the smoke and dim light, one or the other party miscalculated the 

distance, for the vessels 

came foul again, the bow- 

/jS^^^BSI^ \ sprit of the English vessel 

passing over the poop of the 
American. As neither had 
much way the collision did 
but little injury, and Jones, 
with his own hands, irame- 
.diately lashed the enemy's 
head-gear to his mizzen- 



mast. The pressure on the 
after sails of the Serapis, 
which vessel was nearl}' 
before the wind at the time, 
brought her hull round, and 
the two ships gradually- 
fell close alongside of each 
other, head and stern; the 
j ib-boom of the Serapis giv- 
ing wa}' with the strain. A 
spare anchor of the English 
JOHX PAUL JONES. sj^jp „o^. jjooked in the 

quarter of the American, and additional lashings were got out on board 
the latter, to secure her opponent in this position. 

Captain Pearson, who was a brave and excellent officer, was full}' 
aware of his superiority in weight of metal ; and he no sooner perceived 
that the vessels were foul than he dropped an anchor, in the hope that 
the Richard would drift clear of him. But, of course, such au expectation 




112 JOHN PAUL JONKS. 

was futile, as tlie yards were iuterlocked, the hulls pressed close; together, 
there were lashings fore aud aft, aud every projectiou aided in holding 
the two ships together. When the cable of the Serapis took the strain, 
the vessels slowly tended, with the bov/s of the Serapis and the stern of 
the Richard, to the tide. 

At this time the English made an attempt to board, but were repulsed, 
with trifling loss. All this time there was a heavy fire kept up from the 
guns. The lower ports of the Serapis having been closed as the vessel 
swung, to prevent boarding, they were now blown off, to allow the guns 
to be run out ; and cases actually occurred in which the rammers had to 
be thrust into the ports of the opposing ship, in order to be entered in 
the muzzles of their proper guns. It was evident that such a state of 
things could not last long. In effect, the heavy metal of the Serapis, in 
one or two discharges, cleared all before it, and the main-deck guns of 
the Richard were almost abandoned. Most of her people went upon the 
upper deck, and a great number collected on the forecastle, where they 
were safe from the battery of the Serapis ; continuing the fight by throw- 
ing grenades aud using muskets. 

AMERICAN VESSEL BADLY SHATTERED. 

At this stage of the action, then, the Serapis was tearing the Ameri- 
can to pieces, below, at each discharge of her battery ; the latter only 
replying to the English fire by two guns on the quarter-deck, and three 
or four of her twelve-pounders. To the quarter-deck guns Jones suc- 
ceeded in adding a third, by shifting a gun from the port side ; and all 
these were used with effect, under his own eye, until the close of the 
action. He tried to get over a second gun, from the port side, but did 
not succeed. 

The fight must now have been decided in favor of the English, but 
for the courage and activity of the people aloft. Strong parties were 
placed in the tops, and, after a sharp and short contest, the Americans 
had driven every man of the enemy from the upper deck of the English 
frigate. After this they kept up so sharp a fire of small arms upon the 



JOHN PAUL JONES. 113 

quarter-deck of the English ship as to keep it clear, shooting down many 
in the operation. 

Thus, this singular condition of affairs obtained, that, while the Eng- 
lish had the battle very much to themselves, below, the Americans had 
control of their upper deck and tops. Having cleared the latter, some of 
the American seamen laid out on the Richard's main-yard, and began to 
throw hand grenades down upon the deck of the British ship ; while the 
men on the Richard's forecastle seconded these efforts b}' casting gren- 
ades, and other combustibles, through the ports of the Serapis. 

MANY KILLED BY DISASTROUS EXPLOSION. 

At length one man, in particular, became so bold as to take up his 
post on the extreme end of the 3-ard ; and being provided with a bucket 
of grenades and a match, he dropped the explosives upon the eneui}', one 
of them passing down the Serapis' main hatchwa\\ The powder boys of 
the English ship had got up more cartridges than were needed at the 
moment, and had carelessly laid a row of them along her main deck, 
parallel with the guns. 

The grenade which came down the hatch set fire to some loose powder 
on the deck, aud the flash passed to these cartridges, beginning abreast 
of the mainmast, and running away -aft. The effect of the explosion was 
awful. More than twenty men were iustantly killed; many of them 
being left with nothing on them but the collars aud wrist-bands of their 
shirts, and the waist-bands of their duck trousers. 

The official returns of Captain Pearsou, made a week after the action, 
show that there were no less than thirty-three wounded on board then, 
still alive, who had been injured at this time ; and thirty of them were 
said to be in great danger. 

Captain Pearson reported that the explosion destroyed nearly all the 
men at the five or six aftermost guns of the Serapis ; and, altogether, 
nearly sixty of the Serapis' men must have been instantly disabled. 

The advantages thus obtained by the coolness aud intrepidity of the 
topmen of the Bonhomme Richard, in a measure restored the chances 



114 JOHN PAUL JONES. 

of the fight, and, by lessening the fire of the enemy, enabled Jones to 
increase his. And in the same degree that it encouraged the Americans 
did it diminish the hopes of the English. 

One of the guns, directed by Jones himself, had been for some time 
firing against the mainmast of his enemy ; while the_ two others were 
assisting in clearing his decks with grape and canister. Kept below 
decks by this double attack, where they had a scene of horror before their 
eyes in the agonies of the wounded, and the other effects of the explosion, 
the spirits of the English crew began to droop, and a very little would have 
caused them to surrender. From this despondency they were tempo- 
rarily raised by one of the unlooked-for events which characterize every 
battle, whether afloat or ashore. 

EXCHANGING BROADSIDES AT A DISTANCE. 

After exchanging the ineffectual and distant broadsides with the 
Scarborough, as already mentioned, the Alliance had kept standing off 
and on, to leeward of the two principal ships, and out of the direction of 
their shot, when, about half-past eight, she appeared, crossing the stern 
of the Serapis, and the bow of the Richard, and firing, at such a distance, 
and in such a way, that it was impossible to say which vessel would suf- 
fer the most. 

As soon as she had drawn out of range of her own guns, her helm 
was put up, and she ran down near a mile to leeward, and hovered about, 
aimlessly, until the firing had ceased between the Pallas and the Scar- 
borough, when she suddenly came within hail, and spoke both vessels. 
Captain Cottineau, of the Pallas, earnestly entreated Captain Landais, of 
the Alliance, to take possession of his prize, and allow him to go to the 
assistance of the Richard, or else to stretch up to windward in the Alli- 
ance, and go to the succor of the commodore. 

After some delay. Captain Landais took the very important duty of 
assisting his consort into his own hands, and, making two long stretches, 
under top-sails only, he appeared, at about the time at which we have 
arrived in the story of the fight, directly to windward of the two ships 



JOHN PAUL JONES. 115 

•wticli were locked together in mortal combat. The head of the Alliance 
was then to the westward. Tliis ship then opened fire again, doing at 
least as much damage to friend as foe. Keeping away a little, she was 
soon on the port-quarter of the Richard ; and some of the people of the 
latter affirmed that her guns were discharged until she had got nearly 
abeam. 

Many voices now hailed to inform the Alliance that she was firing 
into the wrong ship ; and three lanterns were shown in a line on the off- 
side of the Richard, which was the regular signal for recognition in a 
night action. An officer was then directed to hail, to command Captain 
Landais to lay the enemy on board ; and the question being put as to 
whether the order was understood, an answer was given in the affirmative. 

STRATEGIC MOVEMENTS OF THE CONTENDING SHIPS. 

As the moon had now been up for some time, it was impossible not 
to distinguish between the two vessels. The Richard was all black, 
while the Serapis had yellow sides ; and the impression among the people 
of the Richard was that Landais had intentionally attacked her. 

Indeed, as soon as the Alliance began to fire, the people left one or 
two of the twelves on board the Richard, which the}- had begun to fight 
again, saying that the English in the Alliance had got possession of the 
ship and were helping the eneni}-. 

The Alliance's fire dismounted a gun, extinguished several battle- 
lanterns on the main deck, and did much damage aloft. This ship now 
hauled off to some distance, always keeping the Richard between her and 
the eneni}- ; and then she re-appeared, edging down on the port beam of 
her consort, and hauling up athwart the bows of that ship and the stern of 
her antagonist. The officers of the Richard reported that her fire then 
recommenced, when by no possibility could her shot reach the Serapis, 
except through the Bonhomme Richard. In fact, it appears that this 
Landais was one of those men who, for generations, affected the French 
character for seamanship and conduct in naval battles. 

There were, and are, man}' excellent French seamen, and as builders 



116 JOHN PAUL JONES. 

of vessels they are unexcelled. But some meu, like Landais, at that 
time had destroyed their reputation afloat. 

Ten or twelve men appear to have been killed on the forecastle of 
the Richard at this time, that part being crowded, and among them an 
officer of the name of Caswell, who, with his dying breath, maintained 
that he had received his death wound from the friendly vessel. 

After crossing the bows of the Richard and the stern of the Serapis, 
delivering grape as he passed, this " lunatic Frenchman " ran off to lee- 
ward again, standing off and on, and doing absolutely nothing for the 
remainder of the fight. It was as if a third party, seeing two men fight- 
ing, should come up and throw a stone or two at tliem both, and then 
retire, saying he had rather the little fellow whipped. 

JONES' SHIP BADLY DAMAGED. 

The fire of the Alliance certainly damaged the Bouhomme Richard, 
and increased her leaks ; and the latter vessel by this time had leaked 
so much through her shot-holes that she had begun to settle in the water. 
]\Iany witnesses affirmed that the most dangerous shot-holes received by 
the Richard were under her port bow and port-quarter ; or, in other 
words, where they could not have been received from the Serapis. But 
this is not entirely reliable, as it has been seen that the Serapis luffed up 
on the port-quarter of the Richard in the commencement of the action, 
and, forging ahead, was subsequently on her port bow, endeavoring to 
cross her fore-foot. These shots ma}^ very possibly have been received 
theu, and as the Richard settled iu the water, have suddenly increased 
the danger. On the other hand, if the Alliance did actually fire while 
on the bow and quarter of the Richard, as appears b}- a mass of testimony, 
the dangerous shot-holes may have very well come from that ship. 

Let the injuries have been received from what quarter the}' might, 
soon after the Alliance had run to leeward again an alarm was spread 
throughout the Richard that she was sinking. 

Both the contending ships had been on fire several times, and the 
flames had been extinguished with difficulty ; but here was a new enemy 



JOHN PAUL JONES. 117 

to contend with, and, as the information came from the carpenter, whose 
duty it was to sound the pump-well, it produced a good deal of alarm. 

The Richard had more than a hundred English prisoners on board ; 
and the master-at-arms, in the hurry of the moment, and to save their 
lives, let them up from below. In the confusion of such a scene, at night, 
in a torn and sinking vessel, the master of the letter-of-marque that had 
been taken off the north of Scotland, passed through a port of the Richard 
into one of the Serapis, where he reported to Captain Pearson that a few 
minutes would probably decide the battle in his favor, or carry his enemy 
down, as he (tlie captain of the privateer) had been liberated in order to 
save his life. 

BRAVE REPLY OF THE AMERICAN COMMANDER. 

Just at this moment the gunner of the Bonhomme Richard, who had 
not much to do at his quarters, came on deck, and not seeing Commodore 
Jones, or Mr. Dale, both of whom were occupied with the liberated pris- 
oners, and believing the master (the onl}^ other superior officer of the 
ship) to be dead, he ran up on the poop, to haul down the colors, and, as 
he believed, save all their lives. 

Fortunately, the flag-staff had been shot away, and as the eusign 
already hung in the water he had no other means of letting his intentions 
be known than by bawling out for quarter. Captain Pearson now hailed^ 
to inquire if the Richard demanded quarter, and Commodore Jones, hear- 
ing the hail, replied " No." 

It is probable that the reply was not heard ; or, if heard, supposed to 
come from an unauthorized source ; for, encouraged from what he had 
heard from the escaped prisoner, by the cries, and by the confusion which 
appeared to reign on board the Richard, the English captain directed his 
boarders to be called away, and, as soon as they were mustered, he 
directed them to take possession of the prize. Some of the Englishmen 
actually got upon the gunwale of the American ship, but, finding board- 
ers ready to repel boarders, they precipitately retreated. The Richard's 
topmen were not idle atrai;''; time and the enenu- were soon driven belov,- 



118 JOHN PAUL JONES. 

again, with loss. In the meantime Mr. Dale (who was afterwards Com- 
modore Dale) had no longer a gun which could be fought, and he 
mustered the prisoners at the punips, turning their consternation to 
account, and probably keeping the Richard afloat by this very blunder 
that had come so near losing her. Both ships were now on fire again, and 
both sides, with the exception of a very few guns on board each vessel, 
ceased firing, in order to turn to and subdue this common enemy. 

ENEMY LOSING HOPE OF VICTORY. 

In the course of the battle the Serapis is said to have been on fire 
no less than twelve times ; while, towards its close, as will be seen in the 
sequel, the Bonhomme Richard had been burning all the time. As soon 
as order was restored in the American ship, after the gunner's call for 
quarter, her chances of success began to increase ; while the Bnglish, 
driven under cover, appeai'ed to lose the hope of victor}'. Their fire 
slackened verj^ materiallv, while the Richard again brought a few guns 
to bear. 

It was an example of immense endurance on either side ; but as time 
went on the mainmast of the Serapis began to totter, and her resistance, in 
general, to lessen. About an hour after the explosion, or about three hours 
and a half after the first gun was fired, and about two hours and a half 
after the ships were lashed together. Captain Pearson hauled down his 
colors with his own hands, his men refusing to expose themselves to the 
fire of the Richard's tops. 

As soon as it was known that the English colors were down, Mr. 
Dale got upon the gunwale of the Richard, and laying hold of the main- 
brace pendant, swung himself on board the Serapis. On the quarter-deck 
he found the gallant Captain Pearson, almost alone, that officer having 
maintained his post throughout the whole of this close and murderous 
engagement, proving himself a man of great nerve and ability. 

Just as Mr. Dale addressed the English captain the first lieu- 
tenant of the Serapis came up from below, to inquire if the Richard had 
struck, as her fire had entirely ceased. Mr. cl^ale informed the English 



JOHN PAUL JONES. IIQ 

officer that lie had mistaken the position of things, the Serapis havin<^ 
struck to the Richard, and not the Richard to the Serapis. Captain 
Pearson confirnung this, his surprised subordinate acquiesced, offering 
to go below and silence the guns on the main deck, which were still 
playing on the American ship. To this Mr, Dale would not consent, 
but passed both the English officers at once on board the Bonhomme 
Richard. 

The firing below then ceased. Mr. Dale had been closely followed to 
the quarter-deck of the Serapis by a midshipman, Mr. Mayrant, with a 
party of boarders, and as the midshipman struck the quarter-deck of the 
prize, he was run through the thigh with the boarding pike, in the hands 
of a man who was ignorant of the surrender. Thus did the close of this 
remarkable sea fight resemble its other features in singularit}^, blood be- 
ing shed, and shot fired, while the boarding officer was in amicable dis- 
course with his prisoners. 

JONES ORDERS THE VESSELS SEPARATED. 

As soon as Captain Pearson was on board the Bonhomme Richard 
and a proper number of hands sent to Air. Dale, in the prize, Commodore 
Jones ordered the lashings to be cut, and the vessels to be separated, 
hailing the Serapis, as the Richard drifted from alongside of her, and 
ordering her to follow his own ship. Mr. Dale had the head-sails of the 
Serapis braced sharp aback, and the helm put down, but the vessel did 
not obey either the canvas or the helm. 

Mr. Dale was so surprised and excited at this that he sprang from 
the binnacle, to see the cause, and fell, full length, on deck. He had 
been severely wounded in the leg, by a splinter, and until that moment 
had been ignorant of the injury. He had just been picked up and 
seated, when the master of the Serapis came up and informed him of the 
fact that the ship was anchored. By this time Mr. Lunt, the second 
lieutenant, who had been away in the pilot-boat, had got alongside, and 
came on board the prize, when Mr. Dale gave him charge, the cable was 
cut, and the ship followed the Richard, as ordered. 



120 JOHN PAUL JONES. 

Altbough this protracted and bloody contest had now ended, the vic- 
tors had not done with either dangers or labors. The Richard was not 
only sinking from shot-holes but she was on fire, so that the flames had 
got within the ceiling and extended so far that they menaced the maga- 
zine, while all the pumps, in constant use, could barely keep the water in 
the hold from increasing. 

Had it depended upon the exhausted crews of the two combatants, 
the ship must .soon have foundered ; but the other vessels now sent men 
on board to assist. So imminent did the danger from the fire become 
that all the powder left was got on deck, to prevent an explosion. In this 
manner did the night of the battle pass, with one gang always at the 
pumps and another fighting the flames, until about ten o'clock in the 
forenoon of the 24th, when the fire was got under. 

BOTH SHIPS SUPPOSED TO BE SINKING. 

Before daylight that morning eight or ten Englishmen, of the Rich- 
ard's crew, had stolen a boat of the Serapis and made their escape, land- 
ing at Scarborough. Several other men of the Richard were so alarmed 
at the condition of the ship that during the night they jumped overboard 
and swam to the other vessels. At da3'light an examination of the ship 
was made. Aloft, on a line with those guns of the Serapis which had not 
been disabled by the explosion, the timbers were nearly all beaten in or 
beaten out, for in this respect there was little difference between the two 
sides of the ship. It is said, indeed, that her poop and upper decks 
would have fallen into the gunroom but for a few futtocks which the 
shot had missed. 

So large was the vacuum, in fact, that most of the shot fired from 
this part of the Serapis at the close of the action must have gone through 
the Richard without touching anything. The rudder was cut from the 
stern-po.st and her transoms were nearly driven out of her. All the after 
part of the ship, in particular, that was below the quarter-deck, was torn 
to pieces, and nothing had saved those stationed on the quarter-deck but 
the impossibility of elevating guns which almost touched their object. 



JOHN PAUL JONES. 121 

The result of the examination was to convince everyone of the im- 
possibility of carrying the Richard into port in the event of its coming 
on to blow. Commodore Jones reluctantly gave the order to remove the 
wounded, while the weather continued fair. 

The following night and a portion of the succeeding day were 
emplo3'ed in this dut}', and about nine in the morning the officer who was 
in charge of the ship, with a party at the pumps, finding that the water 
had reached the lower deck, at last abandoned her. About ten the Bon- 
homme Richard wallowed heavil}^ gave another roll, and went down, 
bows foremost. 

The Serapis suffered miich less than the Richard, as the guns of the 
latter were so light, and so soon silenced, but no sooner were the ships 
separated than her main-topmast fell, bringing with it the mizzen-top- 
mast. Though jur3'-niasts were erected the ship drove about, nearlj^ 
helpless, in the North Sea until the 6th of October, when the remains of 
the squadron, with the two prizes, got into the Texel, the port to which 
they had been ordered to repair. 

GREAT LOSS OF LIFE ON BOTH SIDES. 

In this battle an unusual number of lives were lost ; but no authenti- 
cated report seems to have come from either side. The English stated 
tlie loss of the Richard to have been about three hundred in killed and 
wounded. This would include nearly all on board that ship, and was, of 
course, a mistake. The muster-roll of the Richard, excluding the marines, 
which roll was in existence long after, shows that 42 men were killed, or 
died of wounds very shortly, and that 41 were wounded. No list of the 
casualties of the marines is given. This would make a total of 83 out of 
227 souls. But some of those on the muster-roll were not in the battle 
at all, for both junior lieutenants, and about 30 men with them, were 
absent in prizes. 

There were a few volunteers on board who were not mustered and, 
so, if we set down 200 as the regular crew during the action, we shall 
not be far wrong. Estimating the marines at 120, and observing the same 




12 



PAUL JONE:, bElZlXG THE SILVER PLATE OF LADV SELKIRK 



JOHN PAUL JONES. 12:3 

proportion for casualties, we shall get 49 for the result, which will make 
the entire loss of the Richard one hundred and thirty-two. It is known, 
however, that in the course of the action the soldiers suffered out of pro. 
portion to the rest of the crew, and as general report made the gross loss 
of the Bonhomme Richard 150, it is 
probable that this was about the 
number. 

Captain Pearson made a partial 
report, putting his loss at 117, admit- 
ting, at the same time, that there were 
many killed who were not reported. 
Probably the loss of the two ships was 
about equal, and that nearly or quite 
half of all engaged were either killed 
or wounded. 

In a private letter, written some 
time after, Jones gives an opinion that 
the loss of men in the two ships was 
about equal. Muster-rolls were loosel}- 
kept in those days. 

That two vessels of so much force 
should be lashed together for more 
than two hours, making use of artil- 
lery, musketry and all the other means 
of offence known to the warfare of the 
day, and not do even greater injury to 
their crews, must strike every one with 
astonishment. But the fact must be 
ascribed to the peculiarities of the battle, which, by driving the English 
under cover early in the fight, and keeping the Americans above the 
chief line of the fire of their enemy, in a measure protected each side 
from the missiles of the other. As it was, it was a most sanguinary 
conflict, with a duration prolonged b}- unu'.5c."al circumstances. 




MEDAL AWARDED TO JOHN PAUL 
JONES BY CONGRESS. 



12} JOHN PAUL JONES. 

The arrival of Jones and his prizes in the Texel excited much 
interest in the diplomatic world. The English demanded that the prizes 
sliould be released and Jones himself given up as a pirate. The Dutch 
Government, though favorable to the Americans, was not prepared for 
war, and therefore temporized. A long correspondence ensued, and the 
following expedient was adopted. The Serapis, which had been refitted, 
was transferred to France, as was the Scarborough, while Jones took 
command of the Alliance, Landais having been suspended, and ordered 
to quit the country. Landais was afterward restored to command, but 
deposed again on the ground of insanity, and eventuall}- discharged the 
service. 

Jones was absent from home for about three years, during which 
time his exploits were numerous and of the most astonishing character. 
He was denounced as a pirate b}' the English, who became so alarmed 
by his achievements that many people did not feel safe even in London. 
Some of the timid ones looked out on the Thames, half expecting to 
see the terrible fellow lay their city under tribute. At one time he 
landed on the coast of Scotland, and, appearing at the residence of the 
Earl of Selkirk, captured a large amount of silver plate and booty. 
But he treated the earl's household with great courtesy, and the plate 
that was seized at the time is now in the possession of the members of 
the Selkirk family. 



J^ 




CHAPTER V. 

ADMIRAL LORD NELSON. 

FAR-FAMED HERO OF TRAFALGAR — HIS BRILLIANT 
NAVAL CAREER — NOBLE CONDUCT IN THE FACE 
OF DANGER — SPLENDOR OF HIS DEEDS ACKNOWL- 
EDGED BY HIS COUNTRYMEN. 

"England expects ever}' man to do his dnty." 
This was the order that Nelson signalled from his ship to every other 
British ship when about to attack the eneni}' in the historic battle of 
Trafalgar. The words are as immortal as the brilliant deeds and the 
honored name of the great admiral. 

He was the dread of his foes and the pride of his couutr\auen. 
During the time in which he was a naval commander he might justly 
have been styled the master of the sea. Brave even to rashness, quick 
in decision, unbounded in resources, almost adored by his men, he had 
all the qualities that belong to the invincible leader and commander. 
He was one of those heroic souls who appear from time to time and 
change the history of the world. He appeared to have a genius for 
managing ships in conflict. Doubtless this was partly due to that 
innate heroism and courage of which he was a shining example. 

Horatio, Viscount Nelson, English admiral, was born on the 29th of 

September, i75S,at Burnham Thorpe in Norfolk, of which parish his fathei 

was rector. He entered the navy in 1770, under the patronage of his 

uncle, Captain Maurice Siickling ; made a voyage to the West Indies in 

a merchant ship; served in the Arctic expedition of 1773, and was 

afterwards sent to the East Indies in the Seahorse. Two years of the 

climate severely tried his constitution, never very strong, and he came 

home, invalided, in September, 1776. In April, 1777, he passed his exam- 

125 



120 



ADMIRAL LORD NELSON. 



ination, and by the interest of his mother's family was at once promoted 
to be lieutenant of the Lowestoft frigate, with Captain Locker. In her 
he went to Jamaica, where he was taken by the admiral into the flagship, 




LORD NELSON. 

and on December 8th, 1778, was promoted to command the Badger brig, 

from which, six months later, he was posted to the Hinchingbrook frigate. 

In January, 1780, he commanded the naval force in the expedition 

against ySan Juan ; in the heavy boat-work up the pestilential river his 



ADMIRAL LORD NELSON. 127 

health broke down, and he returned to England in an apparently d3dng 
condition. A few months' rest and careful treatment, however, restored 
him ; and in August, 1781, he commissioned the Albemarle, in which, 
after a winter in the North Sea, he went to North America, where he 
joined the squadron under Lord Hood, and made the acquaintance of 
Prince William Henry, afterwards William IV., with whom he alwa3'S 
maintained the most cordial relations. lu the spring of 1784 he was 
appointed to the Boreas frigate, again for service in the West Indies, 
where, by enforcing the Navigation Act against the Americans, he 
aroused the ill-will of the merchants, which took effect in numerous 
actions for damages. The law, however, was clear on the point, and 
Nelson's proceedings were sustained, though not without causing him 
much trouble and annoyance. 

APPOINTED TO AN IMPORTANT COMMAND. 

Whilst on this station he married Mrs. Nisbet, the widow of a Dr. 
Nisbet of Nevis, niece of Mr. Herbert, the president of the island ; and 
on the Boreas being paid off, in December, 17S7, he with his wife retired 
to Burnham Thorpe, where he lived for the next five years. His frequent 
applications for employment were unsuccessful, till, on the imminence 
of war with France in January, 1793, he was appointed to the Agamemnon 
of sixty-four guns, in which he accompanied Lord Hood to the ]\Iediter- 
ranean. When Toulon was given up to the allies Nelson was ordered 
to Naples to urge the necessity of troops being sent at once to their 
assistance ; on his return he was emploj'ed in the blockade of Corsica, 
and in the following spring commanded the naval brigade which largel}' 
conduced to the reduction of Bastia and of Calvi, where an unlucky 
blow from a bit of gravel, scattered by a shot, destro3'ed the sight of one 
of his eyes. In 1795 he was with the fleet in the two actions fought b}' 
Admiral Hotham outside Toulon. In both, the French were defeated 
with some loss, but they were allowed to escape, and Nelson in his private 
letters expressed an angry opinion that more might and ought to have 
been done. 



128 



ADMIRAL LORD NELSON. 



lu the autumn of 1795 Hotham was succeeded by Sir John Jervis, 
and during the whole of 1796 the strictest blockade of Toulon was 
enforced, Nelson being for the most part, as in preceding years, with a 
small squadron in the Gulf of Genoa, where he put a stop to all coasting 
traffic, and commanded the road along the shore so completely as to 
warrant his assertion that, had he had an adequate force, the invasion of 




\'1L\V ijK I'HL CII V or LISIJON. 

Italy would have been impossible. Towards the close of the year Spain 
concluded a treat}' of alliance with France, and sent her fleet into the 
Mediterranean to co-operate with the French. Jervis thus found himself 
opposed by verj^ superior forces ; and, with Spain and Italy both in 
hostile hands, his position was no longer tenable. He withdrew the 
troops from Corsica, and retired to Gibraltar, and afterwards to Lisbon. 
He was, however, determined that the Spanish fleet, which had been 



ADMIRAL LORD NELSON. 



129 



instructed to join the French at Brest, should not pass ; and, on its 
endeavoring to do so, met it off Cape St. Vincent on February 14th 1797, 
and inflicted on it a signal defeat. 

This was rendered more decisive by the action of Nelson, who, 
having been appointed commodore, with his broad pennant on board the 




BAPTLK 01 LAIM, ST. \1N( l-.M. 

Captain, was in the rear of the line, and, interpreting a manoeuvre of 
the Spanish admiral as an attempt to reunite the two divisions of his 
fleet, which Jervis had separated, wore out of the line to meet him, and 
for nearly half an hour withstood, single-handed, the attack of the whole 
Spanish van. When support arrived and the Spaniards fled, the Captain 
had suffered severely ; and Nelson, being unable to join in the pursuit, 
let his .ship fall foul of the Spanish San Nicolas, which he boarded and 



130 ADMIRAL LORD NFXSON. 

took possession of, and, leading his men across her deck to the San Josef, 
took possession of her also. 

Nelson's condnct on this occasion deservedly won for him the cross 
of the Bath ; and, being promoted in dne course to be rear-admiral, he 
continued with the fleet off Cadiz till, in July, 1797, he was sent with a 
small squadron to seize a richly-laden Spanish ship which had taken 
refuge at Santa Cruz. He was instructed to levy a heavy contribution 
on the town if the treasure was not given up ; but the troops which he 
had asked for were not granted, the ships were powerless, and the landing 
force at his disposal was quite inadequate. With it, such as it was, how- 
ever, the attack was made on the night of July 21st ; but in the darkness 
the boats missed the mole, and landing irregularly were repulsed with 
severe loss. Nelson himself had his right elbow shattered by a grape- 
shot. He was carried on board his ship, where the arm was amputated, 
but on rejoining the fleet he was compelled to return to England. 

CRUISES IN THE MEDITERRANEAN. 

In the following March, 1798, he hoisted his flag on board the Van- 
guard of seventy-four guns, and sailed from St. Helens to rejoin the fleet 
off Cadiz. He was immediately sent into the Mediterranean in command 
of a small squadron, with orders to ascertain the object of the French 
armament at Toulon. The secret was, however, too well kept ; and the 
Vanguard, being dismasted in a violent gale, was obliged to put into San 
Pietro off Sardinia to refit, while the French expedition sailed on its way 
to Egypt. On June 7th Nelson was reinforced by ten sail of the .ine ; 
but his frigates had all parted company, and, under some misapprehen- 
sion of orders, did not rejoin him. He was thus left without means of 
learning anything about the French further than that they had sailed 
from Toulon. 

His hope to get news at Naples proved vain, and it was only when 
he arrived off Messina that he heard that the French had captured Malta, 
but had sailed again some days before. Their destination was unknown ; 
he conjectured that it might be Egypt, and he hastened thither, only to 



ADMIRAL LORD NELSON. 



131 



fiud that there was no trace of them. He had iu fact passed within a few 
leagues of them, but without seeing them. He returned by the coast of 
Asia, put into Syracuse, where he watered, and was meditating going up 
the Archipelago to Constantinople, when he at last learned that, after all, 
they had gone to Egypt. Thither he immediately followed, and on the 
exLimii; of August ist found their fleet Ij'ing at anchor in Aboukir Bay. 




THK BATTLK OF THE NILE, OR ABOUKIR. 

His plans had long before been formed and discussed with the several 
captains under his orders, everything was ready, and no explanatory 
signals were needed. His fleet was numerically inferior to that of the 
French, and became still more so by the accident of the CuUoden getting 
aground and being unable to take au}^ part in the battle but the wind 
was blowing along the Fretich line, and, by concentrating his attack on 



i:52 ADMIRAL LORD NELSON. 

the weather eudof it, it was crushed by superior force, while the leeward- 
most ships were unable to render an}' assistance ; and thus, creeping 
gradually down the Hue, he captured or destroyed the whole, with the 
exception of the two rear-most ships, and two of the frigates, which fled. 
Never, in recent times, had there been a victory so complete, so 
overwhelming ; and when Nelson, with his shattered fleet, returned to 
Naples he was the object of an enthusiastic adoration which knew no 
bounds. The queeu, in her intense hatred of the murderers of her sister, 
welcomed their couqueror with all the ardor of a passionate nature ; and 
Lady Hamilton, the wife of the English ambassador, fell on his breast 
in a paroxysm of hysterical rapture. 

"BARON NELSON OF THE NILE." 

At home, Nelsou was raised to the peerage by the title of Baron 
Nelson of the Nile ; parliament voted him a pension of ^2000 a year, 
and the East India Company awarded him a sum of ^10,000. Turkey 
and Russia sent him handsome and costly presents, and the king of 
Naples conferred on him the title of Duke of Bronte, in Sicily, with an 
estate valued at ^3000 a year, though during Nelson's life its revenues 
seem to have been in abe^'auce. 

On January, ist 1801, Nelsou was promoted to be vice-admiral, and 
a few days later was appointed second iu command of the expedition 
ordered to the Baltic, under Sir Hyde Parker. He hoisted his flag in the 
St. George, but that ship being too large for the approaches to Copen- 
hagen, he uun-ed into the Elephant when the attack was determined on. 
The whole conduct of this attack was entrusted to Nelson, with the 
smaller ships of the fleet, Parker, with the others, remaining at anchor 
some miles distant. After a furious combat of from three to four hours' 
duration, the enemy's ships were subdued. The shore batteries, still 
continued to fire, till Nelson sent a flag of truce on shore to point ou. 
that the worst sufferers from the continued engagement were the crews 
of the beaten ships, which received a great part of the fire of 1)otli 
parties. 



ADMIRAL LORD NELSON. 133 

A suspension of hostilities was agreed on to permit of the prisoners 
being removed ; and this led to an armistice, which the news of the 
czar's death shortly afterwards converted into a peace. Nelson, who was 
raised a step in the peerage and became a viscount, succeeded Parker as 
commander-in-chief ; but, his health having given way, he was permit- 
ted to return to England. He arrived in the beginning of Jul}-, and was 
at once ordered to undertake the defence of the coast, in view of the pre- 
parations for invasion which were being made in France.; and though 
he failed in an attempt to destroy the flotilla collected in Boulogne, his 
watch was so vigilant that the boats never ventured from under the pro- 
tection of their chains and batteries. 

IN HOT PURSUIT OF THE FRENCH FLEET. 

On the renwal of the war, Nelson was at once sent out to the IVIedi- 
terranean, where, with his flag in the Victory, he cruised for more than 
eighteen months in front of Toulon, drawing back occasionally to Mada- 
lena for water and refreshment. During one of these absences, in March, 
1805, the French fleet put to sea under the command of Vice-admiral 
Villeneuve, and got clear away to Gibralter, to Cadiz, and to Martinique, 
where they expected to be joined by the fleet from Brest. Nelson, how- 
ever, though delayed for six weeks by his ignorance of where Villeneuve 
had gone, was only twenty days behind him ; and Villeneuve, deceived 
as to the English numbers, and unwilling to risk an engagement which 
might frustrate his ulterior object, hastily returned to Europe. Nelson 
again followed, again outsailed his enemy, and arrived off Cadiz some 
days before the French approached the shores of Europe. 

At daylight on Monday, the 21st of October, they were discovered 
when some leagues from Cape Trafalgar, six or seven miles to the east- 
ward. Nelson was then upon deck, and regarded the enemy with the 
victor's prophetic eye. Signal was made to bear down in two lines ac- 
cording to arrangement, and prepare for battle, after which he descended 
to his cabin, and at seven o'clock wrote down the following prayer : 

"May the great God whom I worship grant to my country, and for 



134 ADMIRAL LORD NKLSON. 

the benefit of Europe in general, a great and glorious victory ! and may 
no misconduct in any one tarnish it ! and may humanity, after victory, 
be the predominant feature in the British fleet ! For myself, individu- 
ally, I commend my life to Him who made me, and may His blessing 
light upm my endeavors for serving my country faithfully! To Him 
I resign myself and the just cause which is entrusted to me to defend. 
Amen ! Amen ! Amen ! " 

He wrote also a memorandum recapitulating the public services of 
Lady Hamilton, and bequeathing her, as well as his adopted daughter, 
to the generosity of his country and his loyal friends. 

PRESENTIMENT OF APPROACHING DEATH. 

It was noticed that on this occasion he .showed none of that joyous- 
ness of spirit peculiar to him on the eve of a great enterprise. He was 
serenely calm ; but evidently a presentiment of coming death guided all 
his thoughts. Of Captain Blackwood he asked what he should consider 
as a victor}-. There was no sign of hesitancy or weakness on the part 
of the enemy, and Blackwood answered, therefore, that the capture of 
fourteen sail of the line would be a grand result. " I shall not be satis- 
fied with less than twenty," replied Nelson. 

Soon afterwards, Blackwood, in taking leave of his admiral to return 
on board his own frigate, observed that he hoped they should in a few 
hours meet again. Nelson answered calmly, " My dear Blackwood, I 
shall never again speak to you." Probably he spoke in this way because 
he had estimated the inequality of the contest, and felt that the inequal- 
ity could be met only by a daring and an intrepidity inspired to an 
extraordinary degree of fervor by his personal example. Hence he de- 
termined on an exposure of his life which amounted to chivalrous reck- 
lessness. 

He wore his admiral's uniform, with four stars embroidered on its 
left side, the emblems of the orders to which he had been admitted. His 
officers .solicited him to put on a plainer dress, as it was known that there 
were many riflemen amongst the 4000 troops on board the French ships. 



ADMIRAL LORD NELSON. 135 

But no, what he had won he would not lay aside, and there he stood on 
the quarter-deck of his stately flag-ship, a mark for the enemy — one 
whose life was worth a legion of common lives. 

In advancing. Lord Nelson, as commander-in-chief, led the weather 
column in the Victory, and Collingwood, as second in command, the lee 
column in the Royal Sovereign. Nelson's last signal was the immortal 
one, "England expects every man to do his duty" — a signal which, when 
made known, was hailed by every man with a hearty cheer. 

BEGINNING OF THE GREAT STRUGGLE. 

This signal flew from the masthead of the Victory exactly at twelve 
o'clock, and the action instantly began by the leading ships of the British 
columns attempting to break the enemy's compact array, the Victory, 
about the tenth ship from the van, the Royal Sovereign about the twelfth 
from the rear. When Collingwood began the attack and forced his 
passage. Nelson turned round to his officers and exclaimed, " Look at 
that noble fellow ! Observe the style in which he carries his ship into 
action !" 

At four minutes past twelve the Victory opened its fire on the 
enemy's van while ranging along their line, and in almost a quarter of 
an hour afterwards, finding a gap through which she could pass, she fell 
on board the eleventh and twelfth ships. She was followed by the 
Temeraire, which also fell on board one of them. Thus these four ships 
were for a considerable time huddled up into a knotted group, so that the 
flash of almost every gun fired from the Victory set fire to the Redoubt- 
able, her more immediate adversarj-. In this juncture a curious specta- 
cle might be seen ; that of numerous British seamen in the midst of a 
tremendous fire, coolly pouring buckets of water to extinguish the 
flames on board their enemy's ship, that both might not be involved in 
one common destruction. 

Nelson would fain have opened the contest by ranging ahead of 
Admiral Villeneuve's flag-ship, the Bucentaure, in order to have placed 
the Victory ahead of her, and astern of his old opponent, the huge San- 



ir.r, ADMIRAL LORD NELSON. 

tissiina Trinidada. The Bucentaure, however, shot ahead, and compelled 
the Victory to pass under her stern, raking it heavily, and to luff up on 
the starboard side. The Bucentaure poured four broadsides into the 
British flag-ship before Nelson ordered his ports to be opened. Then, 
indeed, all his guns, double-shotted, crashed in such a storm of deadly 
missiles that the French vessel literally heeled with the concussion. But 
he sought even higher game ; he had selected for his target the Trini- 
dada, and laying the Victory alongside of her, he ordered the ships to 
be lashed together, a most daring thing to do. 

FAST AND FURIOUS BATTLE. 

The melee now grew fast and furious ; the dense clouds of battle 
were lighted up incessantly by the flashes of cannon and musketry, and 
witli the crash of falling masts and 3'ards mingled the cheers of the Brit- 
ish seamen at every fresh indication of coming victor}^. As was his 
wont when the conflict deepened, Nelson was light of heart and gay of 
spirit. His fin, as he pleasantl}^ termed the stump of his right arm, 
moved the shoulder of his sleeve up and down with the utmost rapiditv, 
a sign that he was greatl}- pleased. 

Captain Hardy, fearful that Nelson's star-embroidered uniform 
would point him out as a special object to the French marksmen, again 
entreated him to change his dress or assume a great-coat ; but he simply 
observed that he had not yet time to do so. In the meantime the enemy's 
fire continued very heav}^ and well directed. Of no marines stationed 
on the poop and quarter-deck, upwards of 80 were either killed or 
wounded. Mr. Pascoe, the first lieutenant, was severely wounded while 
conversing with the admiral, and John Scott, his secretary, was shot 
through the head while standing by his side. Captain Adair, of the 
marines, almost at the same moment, experienced a similar fate. 

This was about a quarter past one ; a few minutes later Captain 
Hardy observed a marksman on the rigging top of the Bucentaure, 
which there lay on the Victory's quarter, taking deliberate aim at Nel- 
son, and had scarcely time to exclaim, "Change your position, my lord! 



ADMIRAL LORD NELSON. 



137 



I see a rascal taking aim at you ! " when the fatal bullet struck the hero. 
Entering over the top of liis left shoulder, it penetrated through his 
lungs, carrying with it a portion of the epaulette, and lodging in the spinal 
marrow of the back. It is said that the French immediately raised an 
exultant shout. What is certain is that the marksman was instantly 




BATILE UF CAPE TRAFALGAR. 

brought down by a well directed shot from Mr. Pollard, a young mid- 
shipman of the Victory, who thus became his admiral's avenger. Nelson 
was prevented from falling by Captain Hardy, who caught him in his 
arms, and to Avhom he said with a smile : "They have done for me at 
last." 

As he was being removed below he covered his face and his stars 
with a handkerchief that his crew might not recognize him, and observ- 
ing that the tiller-rope was too slack, requested that Captain Hardy 



138 ADMIRAL LORD NELSON. 

should be told to get it tightened. All the surgeons being busily 
engaged with the wounded, he insisted, with his usual generosity, on 
waitiu"- until his turn. A brief examination revealed the fatal character 
of his wound, and Nelson, remarking the change in the surgeon's conn- 
nance, calmly said, " It is, I perceive, mortal ! " 

The Rev. Dr. vScott, the chaplain, now came to attend him. Nelson, 
who was racked with physical anguish, gradually lost his collectedness, 
and uttered incoherent sentences in reference to Lady Hamilton and his 
adopted daughter. At times he expressed an eager desire for drink, 
and continually partook of lemonade. Towards the close his mind 
recovered its serenity, and he sent for Captain Hardy, inquiring how 
many of the enemy's ships had been captui-ed. On being told that 
twelve had certainly struck, he exclaimed, " What, only twelve ! there 
should have been at least fifteen or sixteen by my calculation. How- 
ever," he added after a short pause, " twelve are pretty well." 

WONDERFUL NERVE OF THE DYING HERO. 

He desired Captain Hardy to bear his affectionate remembrance to 
Lady Hamilton and his adopted daughter, Horatia, and to inform them 
that he had left them as a legacy to his king and country, in whose 
service he willingly yielded up his life. '' Will you, my dear Hardy ? " 
he anxiously inquired, and, on receiving an immediate promise, he said, 
" Kiss me, then." Kneeling, Captain Hardy respectfully pressed his 
lips to the wan cheek of the dying hero. 

Nelson then requested that his affectionate regards might be pre- 
sented to his brave oflEcers and men, and said that he could have wished 
once more to have beheld his bsloved relatives and friends, or even to 
have remained till he had seen the fleet in safety ; but, as neither was 
possible, he felt resigned, and thanked God for having enabled him to 
do his duty to his king and country. He had lingered for nearly three 
hours, when the approach of death became rapid and decided. " Doctor," 
he said to his chaplain, " I have not been a great sinner, and, thank 
God, I have done my duty I " 



ADMIRAL LORD NELSON. 139 

Then, as if asking a question and seeking consolation, he repeated 
with sorrowful pathos, " Doctor, I have not been a great sinner? " And 
when the doctor was too deeply affected to reply immediately, " Have 
I ? " he eagerly interrogated. In a iinal access of pain he cried aloud 
and impressively, "Thank God, I have done my duty ! Thank God, 
I have done my duty!" These were his last words. Consciousness 
seemed afterwards to leave him, and he gradually passed away like 
one who falls slowly into a profound sleep. 
Nelson was dead. 

In a few words we may indicate the completeness of the victory 
which was thus solemnly consecrated by the great seaman's blood. 
Twenty of the French and Spanish men-of-war surrendered ; and of 
those that escaped the destruction of Trafalgar, four were captured on 
the 6th of November by Sir Richard Strachan. The navies of France 
and Spain never recovered during the war from this heavy blow, which 
cast adrift all Napoleon's schemes of an invasion of England, and 
assured to the British an undisputed maritime ascendancy. 

MOURNING FOR THE "MASTER OF THE SEA. " 

" We have lost more than we have gained !" said George III., when 
the two-fold intelligence reached him of the victory of Trafalgar and 
the death of Nelson. And this was the feeling of the British people, 
with whom the " hero of the Nile " had always been an idol. They 
forgot his minor defects of character, and remembered only that he was 
a great seaman, the greatest, perhaps, the world had ever produced, the 
one man who brought to bear upon war at sea a genius as brilliant as 
that which Marlborough and Wellington displayed in military opera- 
tions. Lord Malmesbury writes, " I never saw so little public joy. The 
illuminations seemed dim, and, as it were, half-clouded by the desire of 
expressing the mixture of contending feelings, every common person in 
the streets speaking first of their sorrow for him, and then of the 
victorj^" 

The day of tlie hero's funeral — ^January 9th, when through streets 



140 ADMIRAL LORD NELSON. 

crowded with saddened and weeping spectators the procession passed on 
to St. Paul's — was a day of such general and profound grief as England 
has seldom known. To this feeling one of the minor singers gave 
expression in verse which emotion rises above the ordinary- level : 

" To thy country thou com'st back, 
Thou conqueror, to triumphal Albion cam'st 
A corse. I saw before thy hearse pass on 
The comrades of thy perils and renown. 
The frequent tear upon their dauntless breasts 
Fell. I beheld the pomp thick gathered round 
The trophied car that bore thy graced remains 
Through armed ranks, and a nation gazing on. 
Bright glowed the sun, and not a cloud disdained 
Heaven's arch of gold, but all was gloom beneath. 
A holy and unutterable pang 

Thrilled on the soul. Awe and mute anguish fell 
On all. Yet high the public bosom throbbed 
With triumph." 

STRONG AND ORIGINAL GENIUS. 

It has been well said of Nelson that, in deed as in speech, he was 
intuitive and impetuous. His genius had a strong strain of originality ; 
it rebelled against tradition and conventionalities ;it spurned professional 
restraints as hotly as it levelled its attacks against the foe. It was a 
bold, daring, independent genius, which no danger could daunt and no 
responsibilit}- intimidate. At the fight off Cape St. Vincent, without 
waiting for orders, Nelson seized the moment of victory, darted out of 
the line, and swooped down on the enemy like an eagle. At Copenhagen 
he absolutely ignored Sir H^de Parker's signal of recall. And he was 
justified in doing this by his confidence in his power to do great things. 

All his sayings were in keeping with his fiery, romantic, invincible 
spirit — the spirit of one of Plutarch's heroes, or rather, perhaps, of one 
of the Paladins of chivalrous legend. " When in doubt, fight ! " he 
said to 3'oung Lord Cochrane, afterwards a naval commander of no 
ordinary distinction. "Victory or Westminster Abbey ! " "Laurel or 



ADMIRAL LORD NELSON. 141 

cypress ! " " England expects every man to do his duty ! " His hatred 
of the French was like that of the Crusader of old against the Moham- 
medan ; it was almost a religion. It lent a fierce defiant glow to his 
patriotism, and responded to the sympathies of a people then engaged 
in a war for verj^ existence with an aggressive, tj'rannical, and Napo- 
leonic France. 

He had a wonderful power of inspiring affection and confidence ; 
here was not an English sailor who would not have followed blithely 
wherever Nelson led. His capacity for command was unbounded ; his 
seamanship was great ; his tactical skill unequalled. The completeness 
of his victories is the most striking thing about them; he did something 
more than defeat the enemy's fleet, he destroyed it. 

Yet it must in truth be said that Nelson's victories were no more 
complete than Admiral Dewey's at Manila, or that of our North Atlantic 
squadron at Santiago. Nor were they more destructive to the enemy than 
the assaults of Farragut during our Civil War. The genius and daring 
of these great naval heroes will never be eclipsed even by the fame of 
Nelson, of whom Tennyson wrote : 

" Thine island loves thee well, thou famous man, 
The greatest sailor since our world began." 




COMMODORE STEPHEN DECATUR. 

HERO OF TRIPOLI — HIS YOUTH AND GALLAN- 
TRY — A DARING EXPLOIT — PRESENTED BY 
CONGRESS WITH A SWORD — SAD END OF A 
BRILLIANT CAREER. 

Away back in the early part of the nineteenth century we had 
great naval commanders. One of these was Stephen Decatur. Commo- 
dore Decatur came of a seafaring stock. The love of the waves was 
inherited from his father, who was a prominent naval man. When 
eight years of age young Decatur made his first vo3^age under his 
father's care, and it is said that even at this earl}' period he determined 
to follow the footsteps of his sire. Through the aid of Commodore 
Barry, on April 30, 1796, he obtained a warrant as midshipman, and 
was placed on board of the frigate United States. At that time he 
was only nineteen years of age ; a handsome boy, well formed, cour- 
ageous, graceful and attractive. 

Decatur labored hard to make himself master of his profession, and 
he soon became a skilful officer, competent to command and direct, and 
worthy of extreme respect. His superior officers soon recognized his 
ability and exceptional merits. 

He became a famous naval hero in our little Tripolitan war. At 

the beginning of the centurj- there were many American vessels upon 

the seas, carrying goods to all parts of the world ; and they had to 

share the fiite of the ships of other nations from the pirates of the 

Mediterranean Sea. For several of the Mohammedan States iipon the 

northern shore of Africa — Tripoli, Tunis, Algeria and Morocco — made a 
U2 



COMMODORE STEPHEN DECATUR. 143 

business of robbing all the passing merchant vessels they could catch, 
unless they were well paid for letting them alone. 

After the Americans had made peace with England they began to 
think about the right of pa3'ing robbers to let them alone. So, in 1803, 
when Tripoli asked for a larger sum than usual, it was refused. Of 
^course, the angry little State began at once to capture our vessels, 
thinking to bring us to terms. But still President Jeiferson refused, 
and, instead of the money, he sent out the little American navy of gun- 
boats. Among the other officers was Stephen Decatur, then first lieuten- 
ant on board the Argus. He was only about twenty-three 3-ears old, but he 
had been in the navy four years and had alreadj' become known as a brave 
and skilful officer, with a talent for managing men as well as ships. 

EMBARKS IN A DANGEROUS UNDERTAKING. 

After the little squadron had been in the Mediterranean for some 
time, one of the vessels, the Philadelphia, in some way, got aground in 
the harbor of Tripoli, and was captured. Decatur asked permission of 
the commander, Commodore Preble, to try to get her back. This, the 
chief said, could not be done, but after awhile he told Decatur that he 
might go and burn the frigate so that the Tripolitans could never iise 
her. The lieutenant set about the task at once. 

The Intrepid, a small boat, was made ready, twenty men were 
picked out of the squadron's crew, and, one calm, dark night, under 
Decatur's command, the party set out on their perilous errand. 

The Philadelphia was a good-sized frigate, carrying forty guns, and 
now she was surrounded with other gunboats and batteries, ready to fire 
on the Americans at any moment. Decatur managed to enter the harbor 
and get alongside of the Philadelphia before the Tripolitans knew that the 
peaceable-looking little vessel was manned by the hated "Aiuericanoes." 
Then they raised a great cry and rushed on deck, but it was too late. 
Decatur and his men were on board, with drawn swords. The frightened 
men of Tripoli were in too great a panic to fight, so in five minutes the 
deck was cleared, and before they regained their senses the ship was in 



144 



COMMODORE STEPHEN DECATUR. 



flames from stem to stern and the Intrepid was gliding safely out of the 
harbor. 

For this gallant deed, Dacatnr was made a captain and presented 
with a sword by Congress. More decided measures were soon taken 
against the power of the IMediterranean pirates. A land expedition 
attacked them on the easterl}' side, while the town was also bombarded 

from the harbor, 

and Decatur, with 

three American 

gunboats, had a 

desperate fight 

with nine of the 

enemy's vessels. 

He succeeded in 

capturing two of 

them, by a close 

and sharp conflict. 

Just after the first 

one was taken, he 

COMMODORE DECATUR. heard that his 

brother, James Decatur, had boarded another ship whose commander 

had pretended to surrender, and had been treacherously slain by the 

enemy. 

Calling to his men to follow, he rushed on board of the murderer's 
vessel, seizing the treacherous commander, and killed him in a deadly 
hand-to-hand struggle. Decatur's men, follov.ing close upon him, had 
surrounded him in the fight and beaten back the Tripolitans that tried to 
force their way to the relief of their chief. One, more successful than the 
others in eluding the Americans' swords, was just aiming a fatal blow 
at Decatur, when one of his followers, who had lost the use of both arms, 
rushed up and received the blow intended for Decatur on his own head. 
Several attacks were now made upon Tripoli b\- Commodore Preble, 
in each of which Decatur took an active part. His name, it is said, 




COMM()Dr>RR STEPHEN DIXATUR. 



145 



became a terror all along the Barbary coast, aud h:'lped to frigLteu the 
Bey or chief of the State into making peace the next ^•oar, when he heard 




DECATUR AND THE DEY OF ALGIKKS. 

that he was coming to attack him again as one of the leadingcommanders 

of a still larger force than Preble's. 

While our government was busy with England, in the war of 1S12, 
10 



Ua COMMODORE STEPHEN DFCATUR. 

the Dey of Algiers— seeming not to think of how affairs between America 
and his neighbors of Tunis and Tripoli had ended— employed some of his 
ships in seizing our merchant vessels and liolding Americans in slavery ; 
but he did not keep it up long after the Great Britain affairs were settled. 
Three months after Decatur returned to New York from Bermuda, he 
was at the head of a squadron bound for Algeria. In a month he passed 
the straits of Gibraltar, and captured two of the Algerine squadron. He 
then pushed on to the State and soon convinced the Dey that the best 
thing he could do would be to immediately sign a treaty promising never 
more to molest American ships again, and to restore at once all the 
Americans he held captives. 

OUR NAVAL POWER A SURPRISE. 

The work accomplished by Decatur caused the whole of Europe to 
respect the naval power of the United States. They had done what none 
of the old navies dared to attempt. They had put a stop to the piracies 
of the Barbary States, and were the means of freeing the ships of Europe 
as well as of America from their robberies and from the heavy taxes they 
had demanded from all nations for many years. 

During the seven years of peace that followed the Tripolitan wars, 
Commodore Decatur was put in command of a squadron in the Chesa- 
peake Bay, and a little later of the frigate Chesapeake. And then, 
although he was but 28 years old, he received the rank and title of 
commander of the navy. 

When the War of 1812 broke out, he was guarding the entrance to 
Chesapeake Bay, and his first act after the outbreak was to capture the 
English frigate, Macedonia, for which act Congress voted him a gold 
medal. 

After the War of 181 2, Commodore Decatur held the office of navy 
commissioner for five years, until his death, which occurred in a duel with 
Commodore Barron. It had once been Decatur's duty, as a member of 
court martial, to try Commodore Barron for misconduct, and from that 
day Barron imagined that Decattir was his personal enemy, and insisted 



COMMODORE STEPHEN DECATUR. 147 

upon challenging him to a duel, a challenge which, in those days, no 
man considered it honorable to decline. And thus it was that Commo- 
dore Decatur ended his brilliant career on the 22d of March, 1820. 
Decatur was born at Sinnepuxent, Maryland, January 5, 1779. 

His name will always hold high rank among the heroes of our navy, 
» of whom there are many that have distinguished themselves. Although 
/we are not what would be called a maritime people, and make no boast 
of ruling the sea, yet whenever the emergency has been presented, 
our sailors have proved that they were masters of the situation. Let the 
country be grateful to them. The men who "go down to the sea in 
.ships" and brave not onl}^ the dangers of the deep, but the added dangers 
of battle with a formidable foe, should be honored and rewarded by their 
countrymen. 

All the honors bestowed on Decatur were but poor compensation to 
a man who, one might almost say, sailed round the world in search of 
death. Or, if not seeking death, he was prepared for it whenever de- 
manded in the path of duty. And finally, not only was his death 
lamented, but especially the barbaric manner in which it occurred. 
Fortunately, public sentiment concerning dueling has changed, and the 
man who gives the challenge is now considered the coward. 







CHAPTER VII. 

COMMODORE OLIVER H. PERRY. 

HERO OF LAKE ERIE — BORN TO BE A SAILOR — 
EXTRAORDINARY VALOR IN BATTLE — FORE- 
MOST RANK IN THE GALLERY OF GREAT COM- 
MANDERS — GRAPHIC STORY OF HIS EXPLOITS. 



The temples reared to their deitie.s b}- :he 
pious inhabitants of Greece and Rome, and even 
the temple erected and devoted to Jehovah by Solomon have been 
razed to their foundations ; but the memories of their patriotic warriors 
still live in the minds, not only of their countrymen, but of all civilized 
men The martial deeds of Leonidas and Alexander, of Cincinnatus 
and Scipio, of the Maccabees and their like have outlasted the granite 
and the marble, the silver and the bronze. The United States, brief 
as has been her existence as a nation, has not lacked martial spirits to 
carry our beautiful banner into the fiercest frays, and in no battles 
have finer traits of valor been displa3'ed than in our naval wars. 

Among our foremost naval heroes may well be rated Oliver Hazard 
Perry. He was born at Newport, Rhode Island, in 1785. 

At thirteen, when his father retired to Westerly, a small village, 
Oliver could boast of being exceedingly well educated for one of his few 
years. He was an inveterate reader — fortunately of the best class of 
books, by which his mind was expanded, while his morals were improved. 
He, however, did not settle down into a demure boy ; he was as fond of 
innocent sport as any of his companions, and freely participated in all 
that was going on among his boyish associates, particularly^ in rowing 
and sailing. But this love of sport did not make Oliver indifferent to 
the future. On the contrar}', the future hero was deeply thinking about 
148 



COMMODORE OLIVER H. PERRY. 149 

his future profession. His uiotlier's ancestors had many of them been 
engaged in warlike deeds, and lier animated recitals of the battles in 
which they had figured had filled the lad's .^oul with longings to parti- 
cipate in similar adventures. 

As he was scarcely ever out of sight of the sea in daylight, a person 
of his active habits and fearless disposition naturally desired to be a 
sailor, while his father's eminence as a nautical man put it in his way 
to enter the navy. At Newport, in 1806, at a social entertainment, Oliver, 
now a lieutenant in the navy, first became acquainted with the young 
lady whom he afterwards married. Miss Elizabeth Champlin Mason 
was only sixteen, but already she displayed much of the beauty, talent, 
and mauy other admirable qualities which afterwards characterized her 
through life. 

About this time Perry was associated with his friend, Lieutenant 
Samuel G. Blodgett, to attend to the building of seventeen gunboats at 
Newport. This marks the high opinion already entertained at Wash- 
ington of his abilities and reliableness. In June of 1S07, Perry pro- 
ceeded to New York with his fleet of gunboats, but not before he had 
been accepted by Miss Mason as ber lover. 

DIRECTED TO BUILD FLOTILLA FOR GOVERNMENT. 

So well satisfied was the government with Lieutenant Perry's 
management of the gunboat building at Newport, that they forthwith 
ordered him to begin the construction of a flotilla of similar vessels at 
Westerly. This employment lasted until April, 1809, when the con- 
struction was finished. During a visit to Washington, Perry obtained 
a year's leave of absence, and availed himself of that honorable leisure 
to make Miss Mason his wife. 

While the brave officer and his 3^oung wife were enjoying themselves 
on their wedding tour, the probabilities of trouble with England daily in- 
creased. The British cruisers continued to overhaul and search American 
vessels, even in our own waters, seizing seamen under various pre- 
texts, frequently alleging that they were English deserters. Not only 



150 COMMOnORK OLIVER H, I'F.RRY. 

were the outrages most illegal, but they were geuerally accouipauied 
with aggravating insolence or downright brutality. 

Toward the close of the year, Perry endeavored again to get into 
active service, not only engaging the offices of influential friends, but 
addressing the Secretary of the Navy personally, thus : 

OFFERED SERVICES TO HIS COUNTRY. 

" I have instructed my friend, Mr. W. S. Rodgers, to wait on you 
with a tender of my services for the Lakes. There are fifty or sixt}' 
men under my command that are remarkably active and strong, capable 
of performing any service. In the hope that I should have the honor of 
commanding them whenever they should meet the enemy, I have taken 
unwearied pains in preparing them for such an event. I beg, therefore^ 
sir, that we may be employed in some way in which we can be service- 
able to our countr3^" 

On February ist, 1813, Perry received a communication that greatly 
cheered him. Commodore Chauncey, in repl}' to a letter of his, said 
that he had urged the Secretary to order him to the Lakes. This letter 
conveyed a high compliment from the commodore. " You are the very 
person that I want for a particular service, in which yoii may gain repu- 
tation for yourself and honor for 3-our country." 

He was to be given command of the fleet which it was determined 
to organize on the waters of Lake Erie. Accordingly, Perr}' was directed 
to proceed with all due haste to the lake, taking with him a detachment 
of his best sailors from Newport. Two powerful brigs were to be built, 
and launched on the lake. "You will, doubtless, command in chief 
This is the situation Mr. Hamilton mentioned to me two months past, 
and which, I think, will suit you exactly ; you may expect some warm 
fighting, and, of course, a portion of honor." So wrote his friend 
Rodgers. 

On the auspicious 22d of February, Capt. Perry started for Sackett's 
Harbor. It w^as a difiicult, disagreeable, and even hazardous journey. 
At the very outset, a violent tempest met him in crossing to Narragan- 



COMMODORE OLIVER H. PERRY. .151 

setl. But difficulties inspired instead of daunting him. He spent but 
a few hours taking leave of his family — as it seemed, possibly forever. 
He had for couipanion his brother Alexander, a boy of twelve ; they 
traveled in an open sleigh a great part of the route. 

The interval between Perry's arrival at Sackett's Harbor and the 
4th of September was spent by the vigilant and painstaking officer in a 
series of operations as important, if not as brilliant to read of, as 
winning battles. He had to be continually urging lagging officials to 
forward supplies and men. More particularly was he deficient in 
medical men and officers, both commissioned and warrant. It must be 
remembered that he had to meet a squadron of the British navy, and 
that that Power had just come out of a series of naval wars in which 
their officers had had a practical education in maritime fighting, in which 
the greatest navies of the old world had been completely annihilated. 
The English sailors were mostly veterans, trained to the use of large 
and small guns, while the marines proper have always been deservedly 
classed as the flower of their country's infantry. 

LEADER OF AN IMPORTANT EXPEDITION. 

With US, on the contrary, the few officers that survived from our 
small wars on the Mediterranean pirates had been honorably dismissed 
from the navy, and had obtained situations in mercantile service, and 
were scattered in sailing vessels over distant seas. Our marine corps 
scarcely amounted to a corporal's guard to every vessel. As we had no 
navy yards like England's, France's, or even Sweden's, in which millions 
upon millions of dollars' worth of timber, canvas, cordage, chains, 
anchors, guns and such necessary munitions had been accumulating 
for decades of years, it fell to Perry's lot to be builder, provider, pur- 
ve3'or, and even paymaster for the whole expedition. 

Meanwhile General Harrison, commanding the Western levies, was 
impatiently urging the young naval officer to break the British power 
on the Lakes, and thus affiard his army an opportunity to commence 
active operations against the common enemy. It was about this time 



152 COMMODORE 0LIVP:R H. PERAY. 

that Perry obtained reliable news as to the strength of the British 
sqnadrou under Captain Robert H. Barclay : 

" The Detroit, of five hundred tons and nineteen guns, all long, 
except two twenty-four pound carronades ; the ship Queen Charlotte, of 
f.jur hundred tons and seventeen guns, three of them being long guns, 
tlie Detroit and Queen Charlotte having each one of the long guns on a 
pivot ; the schooner Lady Prevost, of two hundred and thirty tons and 
thirteen guns, three being long guns ; the brig Huuter, of one hundred 
and eighty tons and ten guns ; the sloop Little Belt, of one hundred 
tons and three guns, two loug twelves and one long eighteen, and the 
schooner Chippeway, of one hundred tons, mounting one loug eighteen, 
makiiag in all sixty-three guns, thirty-five of which were long." 

PITTED AGAINST A VETERAN OFFICER. 

Captain Barclay was one of Nelson's officers at Trafalgar, and was 
badl}' woutided in that battle ; he was known to be skilful, courageous, 
and ambitious of honorable renown. The officers itnder him were of 
approved capacity and courage. By official report his crews consisted of 
four hundred and sevent}' sailors and marines. Add the officers, and 
the count stood at full five hundred men. 

The fleet under Oliver Hazard Perr}' consisted mainly of vessels of 
less than five hundred tons ; the Lawrence and Niagara were the only 
ships that exceeded that tonnage, and consequently could not be rated 
as men-of-war. The bulk of the American squadron were weakly built 
and had not even bulwarks of any strength. Their principaj armament 
was long guns. The brigs mounted each twenty guns, two long twelves 
and eighteen thirty -two pound carronades. It was only by forcing the 
fighting and coming quickly to close quarters that these could be made 
to tell. Captain J. D. Elliott commanded the Niagara. The other 
officers were excellent seamen and of unquestioned courage, but they were 
mere tj-ros as naval officers. The whole force, in officers and men, of 
our squadron amounted to four hundred and ninety ; of these, one 
hundred and sixteen were on the sick lists of the different vessels on the 



COMMODORE OLIVER H. PERRY. 



153 

In 



morning of the action, seventy-eight cases being of bilions fever 
tonnage, guns and men, the British force outnumbered ours. 

Just previous to the loth of September, Perry became satisfied that 
Barcla}- intended to give battle. Accordingly he summoned his officers 
to meet him on the quarter-deck of his ship, the Lawrence, and furnished 
them each with their corrected instructions — we quote from Mackenzie's 
spirited recital — and he further explained to them verbally his views 
with regard to whatever contingency might occur. He now produced a 
battle-flag, which he had caused to be privately prepared by Mr. Ham- 
bleton before leaving Erie, and the 
hoisting of which to the main roval 
mast of the Lawrence was to be his 
signal for action — a blue flag, bearing 
in large white letters, " Don't give 
up the ship ! " the dying words of 
the hero whose name she bore. 

When about to withdraw, he stated 
to them his intention to bring the 
enemy from the first to close quar- 
ters, in order not to lose by the short 
range of his carronades, and the last 
emphatic injunction with which he 
dismissed them was that he could not, 
in case of difficulty, advise them bet- 
ter than in the words of Lord Nelson, " If you lay your enemy close 
alongside, you cannot be out of 3'our place! " 

On the loth of September, Barclay's fleet was observed coming 
towards ours. After some very delicate evolutions. Perry told his 
sailing-master to lead in a certain direction. The officer showed that 
such a plan had its disadvantages. '' I care not," said Perry, " let to 
leeward or to windward ! they shall fight to-day." 

The Lawrence was ready for action by ten o'clock, when the enemy 
hove to in line of battle on the larboard tack, advancing at about three 




COMMODORE PERRY. 



154 COMMODORE OLIVER H. PPLRRY. 

knots an Iiour. Tlie weather was glorious, and the British vessels, with 
their royal ensigns and newly-painted hulls glistening in the bright 
sunshine, formed a magnificent spectacle. Never had two braver fleets 
contended for tlie master3^ 

Controversialists have sought to diminish tlie skill and bravery of 
either of the officers and men ; but the gallant heroes who had done all 
the fighting did but little of the writing. 

The English commander had arranged his fleet with the Chippeway, 
of one long eighteen pivot, leading ; the Detroit, of nineteen guns, next ; 
the Hunter, of nineteen guns, third ; the Queen Charlotte, seventeen 
guns, fourth ; the Lady Prevost, of thirteen guns, fifth ; and the Little 
Belt, of three guns, last. 

IN LINE OF BATTLE AND EAGER FOR THE FRAY. 

Captain Perry, passing ahead of the Niagara, got into position to 
match the Detroit, placing the Scorpion, of two long guns, ahead, and the 
Ariel, of four short twelves, on his weather bow, where, with her light 
battery, she might be partially under cover. The Caledonia, of three 
long twenty-fours, came next, to encounter the Hunter ; the Niagara 
next, so as to be opposite her designated antagonist, the Queen Char- 
lotte ; and the Somers, of two long thirty-twos, the Porcupine, of one 
long thirty-two. Tigress, of one long twenty-four, and Trippe, of one 
long thirty-two, in succession towards the rear, to encounter the Lady 
Prevost and Little Belt. 

The line being formed, Perry now bore up for the enem}', distant, at 
ten o'clock, about six miles. He now produced the lettered burgee which 
be had exhibited as the concerted signal for battle. Having unfurled it, 
he mounted on a gun-slide, and, calling his crew about hini, thus briefly 
addressed them : "My brave lads! this flag contains the last words of 
Captain Lawrence ! Shall I hoist it ? " " Ay, ay, sir ! " resounded from 
every voice in the ship, and the flag was briskly swayed to the main- 
royal masthead of the Lawrence. The answer was given b}- three such 
rousing cheers as few but American sailors know how to give. 



COMMOnORK OLIVER H. PKRRY. 155 

Slowly but steadily our fleet weut ou iu the directiou of the leadiug 
line of the foe, the leading vessels under reefed sails, but the remainder 
having every yard of canvas set that could possibly draw. No prepa- 
rations remained to make at this hour. 

Captain Perry, now having made all right in reference to his public 
duties, seized a few moments to attend to his private matters, giving 
instructions what was to be done provided he fell in the approaching action. 
All official papers were prepared with sinkers, to be thrown overboard, 
while he destroyed all his private documents. " It appeared," says Mr. 
Hambleton, " to go hard with him to part with his wife's letters. After 
giving them a hasty reading he tore them to ribbons, observing that, let 
what would happen, the enemy should not read them, and closed by 
remarking, ' This is the most important day of my life.' " 

A thrilling bugle blast from the Detroit rang over the waters, and 
was followed by vehement cheering from the British sailors. 

SIGNALS GIVEN FOR THE BATTLE. 

It was now within a few minutes of noon, the Detroit having reached 
within between one and two miles of our leading vessel. The Detroit 
began the fight by sending a round shot at the Lawrence. It, however, 
fell short of its mark. The proper signals were now flown for every 
ship to engage her designated antagonist. The Ariel, Scorpion, Law- 
rence and Caledonia were in their proper stations, iu the rotation given, 
distant from each other less than a cable's length. Some distance 
astern the other vessels were drawing into action. 

In a few moments the Detroit's second shot came hurtling over the 
waves, striking the Lawrence and tearing through the bulwarks. 
Instantly the long guns of the British squadron sent their shot in the 
direction of the American ships, some of them missing, but some carry- 
ing death in their train. Just at noon the Lawrence was siiffering from 
the severe fire of the British, which she returned from her twelve- 
pounder. Perry now, by speaking trumpet, ordered the Caledonia and 
the Niagara to discharge their long guns. The vessels still further 



156 COMMODORE OLIVER H. PERRY 

astern also commenced cannonading, but they were too far off to do any 
material injury. 

The Lawrence was at a great disadvantage in fighting the Detroit, 
as this latter vessel was armed almost entirely with long guns, while 
Perry had to depend almost entirely on the carronades. For this reason 
Perry was impatient for his own ship and his consorts to close with all 
possible haste. Elliott, of the Niagara, received and transmitted the 
order to the line, but for some inexplicable reason he did not apply the 
order to his own conduct, but held off, occasionall}^ discharging shots 
from her twelve-pounder, without damaging the enemy. 

MURDEROUS FIRE BY A WHOLE BATTERY. 

The Lawrence kept firing on toward the British line, every moment 
receiving shot in her hull and spars. Trying the experiment, he found 
that his shot fell short, so he ceased firing until quarter past noon ; then 
he let fly his entire starboard broadside when he was less than four 
hundred yards away. Then, as he neared the Detroit, he discharged a 
quick and mui^derous fire into her. The Lawrence, however, had mean- 
while been terribly riddled by the Detroit and her sister craft. But now 
the action was continued by her with augmented fury, and, notvvith- 
standing the overpowering odds with which she was assailed, the whole 
battery of the enemy, amounting, in all, to thirty-four guns, being 
almost entirely directly against her, she continued to assail the enemj' 
with steady and unwavering effort. 

In this unequal contest she was sustained bv the Scorpion and 
Ariel on her weather bow. The commander of the Caledonia, animated 
by the same gallant spirit and sense of duty, followed the Lawrence into 
action, and closed with her antagonist, the Hunter ; but the Niagara 
had not made sail when the Lawrence did, but got embarrassed with the 
Caledtmia. One of the British vessels, in the smoke, had closed up 
behind the Detroit, and opened her fire at closer quarters upon the Law- 
rence. Li this unequal contest the Lawrence contiu'ied to struggle 
desperately against such overpowering numbers. 



COMMODORE 0LI\1:R II. PKRRY. I57 

The first division of tlie starboard guns was directed against the 
Detroit, and the second against the Qneen Charkitte, with an occasional 
shot from her after-gun at the Hunter, which lay on her quarter, and 
with which the Caledonia continued to sustain a hot though unequal 
engagement. The Scorpion and Ariel, from their stations on the weather 
bow of the Lawrence, made every effort that their inconsiderable force 
allowed. The smaller vessels away in the stern of Perry's line were 
far too distant to be of any service. The will was not wanting, but the 
ability was not there. Terrific as were the odds against the Lawrence, 
being in the ratio of thirty-four guns to her ten in battery, she con- 
tinued, with the aid of the Scorpion, Ariel and Caledonia, to sustain the 
contest for more than two hours with great braver}^ 

ALMOST A COMPLETE WRECK. 

At this time, however, her rigging had been much shot away, and 
was hanging down or towing overboard ; sails torn to pieces, spars 
splintered and falling upon deck, braces and bowlines cut, so as to render 
it impossible to trim the yards or keep the vessel under control. Such 
was the condition of the vessel aloft ; on deck the destruction was even 
more terrible. One by one the guns were dismounted until only one 
remained that could be fired ; the bulwarks were riddled by round shot 
passing completely through. The slaughter was dreadful. 

All this while Perry continued to keep up a fire from his single 
remaining carronade, though to man it he was obliged to send repeated 
requests to the surgeon to spare him another hand from those engaged 
in removing the wounded, until the last had been taken. It is recorded 
by the surgeon that when these messages arrived, several of the wounded 
crawled upon deck to lend a feeble aid at the guns. 

The conduct of Perry throughout this trying scene was well calcu- 
lated to inspire the most unbounded confidence in his followers, and to 
sustain throughout their courage and enthusiasm. When a gap would 
occasionally be made among a gun's crew by a single round shot or a 
stand of grape or canister, the survivors would for a moment turn to 



158 COMMODORE OLIVER H. PERRY. 

Perry, exchange a glance with him, and step to fill the place of their 
comrades. 

In the hottest of the fight, Yarnall, the first lieutenant, came to Perry 
and told him that the officers in the first division under his command 
were all killed or disabled. Perry sent him the required aid ; but soon 
after he returned with the same complaint of a destruction of his officers, 
to which he replied : "You must endeavor to make out b}' yourself; I 
'jhave no more to furnish you." 

GALLANT LIEUTENANT STRUCK DOWN BY A SHOT. 

We may give another iucident to show the carnage which occurred 
on the deck of the Lawrence, and the destruction by which her commander 
was so closeU' surrounded. The command of the marines of the Law- 
rence was intrusted to Lieutenant John Brooks, a gay, amiable, and 
intelligent young officer, whose numerous good qualities were enhanced 
in their effects by the rarest personal beauty. He was addressing Perry 
with a smile and in an animated tone, with regard to some urgent point 
of dut}', when he was struck down b}' a shot. The terrible hurt made 
him utter an agonized cr}-, and he besought Perry to shoot him dead. 
He was tenderly taken below deck. 

Little Midshipman Perry, then but twelve 3'ears old, had his clothes 
rent, and received more than one ball through his hat, when a part of a 
hammock was torn from its netting and dashed against the lad's side. 
As it luckily happened he was merely stunned, and the captain saw him 
again on duty in a few minutes. 

The critical moment had now arrived which was to call out all the 
best qualities of a great commander. Nothing like it had ever occurred 
before in all the strange mutations of a naval action. When the last 
cannon of the Lawrence had been rendered unserviceable ; when but 
twenty persons, including his little brother and himself, were able even 
to make a .show of being able-bodied, it became evident that some new 
measure must be resorted to. Heretofore, in such a case, there had been 
but one way : to strike the flag. And such a course could have been 



COMMODORK OLIVER H. PKRRY. ]',!» 

honorably taken. Bnt Perry was ''made of sterner stuff," and his whole 
soul seemed imbued with Lawrence's noble motto, " Don't give up the 
ship." 

He had striven with might aud main to get his vessels built and 
launched ; he had hurried his superiors into furnishing him with sup- 
plies and men ; he had given General Harrison to hope that his squadron 
would strike a blow that would cut the Gordian knot by which the eager 
armies of the West were bound, as Samson by the green withes ; he had 
evidently made up his mind that he would never be taken out of his ship 
unless he was sewed up in a hammock. Moments now were priceless, 
and Perry rapidly made up his mind what to do. The Lawrence was 
helpless\' drifting, sailless and rudderless, when, as for a moment the smoke 
was blown away, he was able to take the bearings of his surroundings. 
Lieutenant Forrest called his attention to the queer way in which the 
Niagara was handled. She was well on the larboard beam of the Law 
rence ; the Caledonia, at the same time, was passing on the starboard 
beam, between the enemy and Perry's stricken ship. Forrest said plainly 
that the Niagara was evidently determined not to help them ; as she 
seemed to carefully avoid coming into close action. " Then I must fetch 
her up," was Perry's sententious remark. Aud he quickly called his boat. 

PERRY PUSHES OFF IN AN OPEN BOAT. 

He wss convinced that the Niagara was scarcely injured at all ; and 
he vowed that the flag of his countr}- should not be pulled down on any 
vessel that he was on bjard of. His reliable second was at once placed 
in command of what was now little more than a floating hiilk. The 
boat was at the larboard gangway, the word was given, the oars took 
water, but ere they shoved off. Perry exclaimed, "If a victory is to be had, 
I'll have it!" 

When Perry shoved off in the boat that bore "Caesar and his for- 
tunes." it was just half past two. The Niagara was at that moment pass- 
ing her larboard beam, some half mile away. The wind had increased, 
and she was quickly going away from the British fleet. Perry stood at 



160 COMMonORE OLIVER H. PERRY. 

his full height, his breast charged with the grandeur of his design ; to 
take a fresh vessel, and dash back in the midst of the enemy, who had 
already deemed him whipped, and once again try conclusions with his 
stubborn adversary. Had not Perry been something more than merely 
a brave officer, the idea would never have occurred to him. 

But, as we have .seen, almost from his infancy he had been on the 
water. He had played on the rolling logs in the harbor before he ever had 
any experience in managing a skiff, and he had rowed and sailed in every 
sort of craft that could be kept afloat on the stormy, tide-vexed shores of 
Narragansett. So that it was second nature for him, for the nonce, to 
leap into a boat, and stand proudly erect in her. Nelson, it is said, used 
to get seasick in a gun-brig, so he .certainly would never have thought 
of an admiral taking to a barge in the height of a furious battle. 

STANDS ERECT IN THE FACE OF THE ENEMY. 

So it will be seen that it was almost providential that Perry pos- 
sessed the qualifications that he owned. Quick as had been the captain's 
resolve and its execution, the enemy almost as quickl}- saw his design. 

Great guns and musketry were rapidly sending their missiles, in the 
hope of sending the little boat to destruction. In vain Perr3-'s crew 
begged of him to be seated, and it was only when they declared that 
they would not pull another stroke while he remained standing that he 
finally yielded. It hardly needs telling that the brave fellows, some 
wounded and dying, followed every movement of Perry and his brave 
crew as they made the desperate passage from ship to ship; and as 
they saw him step on the deck of the Niagara they saluted him with 
soul-fraught cheers. 

As there was nothing to be gained by keeping the lyawrence a mere 
floating target for British guns, her few remaining officers held a brief con- 
sultation and resolved to surrender. As the colors fluttered down, their 
descent was saluted with cheers by the foe, who knew too well the stuff of 
which her gallant defenders were made. About this time young Brooks 
died, and Mr. Hambleton, the purser, volunteering to a post of danger, 



162 COMMODORE OLIVER H. PERRY. 

had his shoulder fearfully torn. He was working at the last gun that 
fired a shot. 

The British had their hands too full in working out their own safety 
to give any further heed to the condition of the Lawrence. When Perry 
reached the deck of tke Niagara, he was met at the gangway by Captain 
Elliott, who inquired how the day was going. Captain Perry replied, 
badly ; that he had lost almost all of his men, and that his ship was a 
wreck ; and asked what the gunboats were doing so far astern. Captain 
Elliott oflfered to go and bring them up ; and Captain Perry consenting, 
he sprang into the boat and went off on that duty. 

LOUD CHEERS ALL ALONG THE LINE. 

Perry at once ordered that the Niagara should be prevented from 
escaping out of action. The top-gallant sails were set, and the signal for 
"close action " was given. As the pennants were seen, loud cheers 
resounded down the line. By great efforts Lieutenant Holdup Stevens, 
who had been astern of the line in the Trippe, soon closed up to the 
assistance of the Caledonia, and the remaining vessels approached rapidly, 
to take a more actire part in the battle, under the influence of the increas- 
ing breeze. 

The helm had been put up on board the Niagara, sail made, and the 
.'!ignal for close action hove out at forty-five minutes after two, the instant 
after Perry had boarded her. With the increased breeze, seven or eight 
minutes sufficed to traverse the distance of more than half a mile which 
still separated the Niagara from the enemy. The Detroit made an effort 
to wear, in order to present her starboard broadside to the Niagara, 
several of the larboard guns being disabled. As this evolution com- 
menced on board the Detroit, the Queen Charlotte was running up under 
her lee. The evolution of wearing, which was not quickl}- enough done 
cfs. board the Queen, resulted in the latter running her bowsprit and 
head-booms foiil of the mizzen rigging of the Detroit. 

The two British ships were thus foul of each other and they so re- 
mained, when the Niagara, shortening sail, went slowly under the bows 



COMMODORE OLIVER H. PERRY. 163 

of the Detroit, witliiu short pistol-shot, and sent a broadside into each 
vessel ; so that, entangled as they were, they received fearful showers of 
grape and canister. The sterns of the Little Belt and the Lady Prevost 
were treated to the same awful fire, while the marines, by their skilfully 
aimed shots, swept their decks. At this juncture the small vessels also 
came into close action to windward, and poured in a destructive fire of 
grape and canister ; their shot and that of the Niagara, whenever it missed 
its mark, passing the enemy and taking effect reciprocally on our own 
vessels, which were thus exposed to danger. 

ENEMY'S SHIPS HAUL DOWN THEIR FLAGS. 

All resistance now ceased ; an officer appeared on the taffrail of the 
Queen to signify that she had struck, and her example was immediately 
followed by the Detroit. Both vessels struck in about seven minutes 
after the Niagara opened this most destructive fire, and about fifteen 
minutes after Perry took command of her. The Hunter struck at the 
same time, as did the Lady Prevost, which lay to leeward under the guns 
of the Niagara. The battle had begun on the part of the enemy at a 
quarter before meridian ; at three the Queen Charlotte and Detroit sur- 
rendered, and all resistance was at an end. As the cannonade ceased 
and the smoke blew over, the two squadrons, now owning one master, 
were found completel}' mingled. Now a glorious yet sad time had come. 
The form of taking possession of the British captured ships was to be 
gone through with. When our boarding officer reached the Detroit, she 
was in a fearful state. Her bulwarks were in slivers, strong oak as they 
were ; the Lawrence's carronade shots were sticking in her sides. The 
deck looked like a veritable slaughter-house. 

Agrapeshot had lodged in Captain Barclay's thigh making a fearful 
wound. The brave man had been taken below when senseless, but on 
recovering consciousness he was carried on deck to see if resistance was 
hopeless. Then the Niagara threw in her fire, and a second grapeshot, 
passing through the right shoulder, fractured the blade to atoms. 

The rest of the enemy's vessels were found to be also much cut to 



164 COMMODORE OLIVER H. PERRY. 

pieces, especially the Queeu Charlotte, which had lost her brave com- 
mander, Captain Finuis, very early in the action ; her first lieutenant 
had been soon after mortally wounded, and the loss of life on board of 
her was very severe ; she was also much cut to pieces both in hull and 
spars. The other vessels suffered in like proportion. The Lady Prevost 
had both her commander and first lieutenant wounded, and, besides other 
extensive injury, had become unmanageable from the loss of her rudder. 
Lieutenant Signal, commanding the Hunter, and Campbell, the Chippe- 
way, were also wounded, thus leaving only the commander of the Little 
Belt fit for duty at the close of the action. 

Indeed, in the ofl&cial account of Commodore Barclay, it is stated 
that every commander and every officer second in command was disabled. 
The total of killed and wounded rendered by Commodore Barclay in his 
official report was forty-one killed, including three officers, and ninety- 
four wounded, nine of whom were officers. The returns, on account of 
the condition of the commanders and their seconds in command, could not 
have been very complete, and the numbers of killed and wounded are 
believed to have been greater. The killed of the British squadron were 
thrown overboard as they fell, with the exception of the officers. 

SCENES TO MAKE ONE SHUDDER. 

On every side were to be seen objects calculated to harrow the most 
obdurate heart. And our own vessels were full of scenes that made the 
boldest shudder. Our whole fleet had lost twenty-seven brave men 
killed outright, while ninety-six had been wounded. 

But the lamentation over the heroic victors and their worthy antag- 
onist could not lessen the brilliancy of this splendid victory. The 
British were superior in almost every way : their vessels were larger, 
their guns heavier, their sailors better trained, and their marines were 
veterans; while the commander and many of his subaltern officers had 
been in many battles under the glance of "Britannia's god of war," as 
Byron styled Horatio Nelson. To the nautical skill, ready invention, 
and indomitable prowess of one man the victory was in great part due, and 



COMMODORE OLIVER H. PERRY. 165 

that man had but just attained his twenty-seventh year; and strangest 
fact of all, he had never seen a naval battle ! He had dashed boldly into 
action with the Lawrence, counting upon the support of those immedi- 
ately around him, and trusting that the rear of his line would soon be 
able to close up to his support. 

Passing from the Lawrence under the enemy's fire, saved from death, 
as if miraculously, by the protecting genius of his cotintry, he reached 
the Niagara, and by an evolution unsurpassed for genius and hardihood, 
bore down upon the enemy, and dashed with his fresh and uninjured 
vessel through the enemy's line. It was thus that the battle of Lake 
Erie was won, not merely by the genius and inspiration, but eminently 
by the exertions of one man. 

"MET THE ENEMY AND THEY ARE OURS." 

As soon as Perry had taken all precautions for securing his numer- 
ous prisoners and seeing to the comfort of the wounded, he lost no time 
in communicating the result of the battle to the expectant General 
Harrison. For this victory was of paramount importance to the further- 
ance of his plans. The great victory was announced in this brief way : 

" Dear General : We have met the enemy, and they are ours. Two ship.s, 
two brigs, one schooner, and one sloop. 

" Yours, with very great respect and esteem, 

" O. H. Perry." 

To the Secretary of the Navy he also wrote at once. His despatch 
read as follows : 

" U. S. Brig Niagara, off the Westernmost Sister, head of 
Lake Erie, Sept. lO, 1813, 4 P. M. 
" Sir : It has pleased the Almighty to give to the arms of the United 
States a signal victory over their enemies on this lake. The British squadron, con- 
sisting of two ships, two brigs, one schooner and one sloop, have this moment sur- 
rendered to the force under my command, after a sharp conflict. 

" I have the honor to be, sir, very respectfully, your obedient servant, 

"O. H. Perry." 

Not a solitary syllable of self-glorification. He tamely terms that 
a " sharp conflict" which bears comparison with any naval conflict ever 



166 COMMODORE OLIVER H. PERRY. 

fought. The ships were as speedily as possible brought to anchor. So 

few were his guards that he had to take extra precautions to prevent a 

possibility of the prisoners rising during the night. 

Perr}^, at the request of his officers, had hitherto worn a uniform 

round jacket ; he now resumed his undress uniform, and, standing on the 

after part of the deck, received the officers of the different captured 

vessels as they came to tender the surrender of their vessels and their 

own submission as prisoners. At the head of them was an officer of the 

Forty-first Regiment, who acted as marine officer on board the Detroit, 

and was charged by Commodore Barclay with the delivery of his 

sword ; he was in full dress. When they had approached, picking their 

way among the wreck and carnage of the deck, they held their swords 

with the hilts towards Perry, and tendered them to his acceptance. With 

a dignified and solemn air, the most remote possible from any betra3-al 

of exultation, and in a low tone of voice, he requested them to retain 

tiieir side-arms ; inquired with deep concern for Commodore Barcla}- and 

the wounded officers, tendering to them every comfort his ship afforded, 

and expressing his regret that he had not a spare medical officer to send 

to them. 

SAVED BY A WOMAN'S PRAYERS. 

As it was impossible to reserve all the killed of the Lawrence for 
burial on shore, the seamen were buried at nightfall alongside, the 
able-bodied of the crew, so much less numerous than the killed, being 
assembled around to perform the last sad offices. His little brother, 
though he had received several musket-balls through his dress, had met 
with no injur}^, and was now dozing in his hammock. An allusion to 
these facts awakened the same sense of a controlling Providence which, 
in beginning his report, had led him to ascribe the victory to the pleasure 
of the Almighty. " I believe," he said, " that my wife's prayers have 
saved me." 

For this brilliant victory Perry was made a captain and received 
from Congress a gold medal. In the Capitol at Washington, is a mag- 
nificent historic painting, which represents the hero of Lake Erie 



COMMODORE OLIVER H. PERRY. 167 

passing in a small open boat from the Lawrence to the Niagara tliroiigli 
the fiery storm of battle. 

The personal appearance of Perry is thus described by one who 
was well acquainted with him : " He was lofty in stature, and of a most 
graceful contour. He was easy and measured in his movements, and 
calm in his air. His brow was full, massive and lofty, his features 
regular and elegant, and his eye full, dark and lustrous. His mouth 
was uncommonly handsome, and his teeth large, regular and very white. 
The prevailing expression of his countenance was mild, benignant and 
cheerful, and a smile of amiability, irresistibly pleasing, played in con- 
versation about his lips. His whole air was expressive of health, fresh- 
ness, comfort and contentment, bearing testimony to a life of temperauGe 
f nd moderation." 

Perry died of yellow fever in the Island of Trinidad, in August 
1 8 19. At the proper time a national vessel was despatched to convey 
the remains to Newport, where a granite monument records his acts but 
cannot help to immortalize his fame. 





CHAPTER VIII. 

COMMODORE THOS. M'DONOUGH 

HERO OF LAKE CHAIMPLAIN — RARE MAN FOR 
AN EMERGENCY — EXPERT IN NAVAL TAC- 
TICS — REWARDED BY CONGRESS AND THE 
NATION FOR HIS GREAT VICTORY. 

lu the Autumn of 1814, the British contem- 
plated an invasiou of the northern and least populous counties of New 
York, with a large force, following the route laid down for General Bur- 
goyue, iu his unfortunate expedition of 1777- It was most probably 
intended to occupy a portion of the northern frontier, with the expecta- 
tion of turning the circumstance to account in the pending negotiations, 
the English commissioners soon after advancing a claim to drive the 
Americans back from their aucient boundaries, w**b a view to leave 
Great Britain the entire possession of the lakes. 

In such an expedition, the command of Champlain became of great 
importance, as it flanked the march of the invading army for more than 
a hundred miles, and offered many facilities for forwarding supplies, as 
well as for annoyance and defence. Until this season, neither nation 
had a force of any moment on the water, but the Americans had built a 
ship and a schooner, during the winter and spring ; and when it was found 
that the enemy was preparing for a serious effort, the keel of a brig was 
laid. Many galleys, or gunboats, were also constructed. 

The American squadron lay in Otter Creek, at the commencement 
of the season ; and near the middle of May, as the vessels then launched 
were about to quit port, the enemy appeared off the mouth of the creek, 
with a force consisting of the Linnet brig, and eight or ten galleys, under 
the orders of Captain Priug, with a view to fill the channel. For this pur- 

168 



COMMODORE THOMAS M'DONOUGH. 



169 



pose two sloops loaded with stones were in compan}'. A small work 
liad been thrown iip at the mouth of the creek some time previously, by 
Captain Thornton of the artillery, and Lieutenant Cassin was despatched 
with a party of seamen, to aid that officer in defending the pass. After a 
cannonading of some duration, the enemy retired without effecting his 
object, and the vessels got out. In this affair, no one was hurt on the 
side of the Americans, although shells were thrown from one of the 
gallevs. 

On the other hand, the English were not idle. In addition to 
the small vessels they had possessed 
the previous 3^ear, they had built the 
brig just mentioned, or the Linnet, 
and as soon as the last American ves- 
sel was in frame, they laid the keel of 
the ship. B}' constructing the latter, 
a great advantage was secured, care 
being taken, as a matter of course, to 
make her of a size sufficient to be 
certain of possessing the greatest 
force. The American brig, which was 
called the Eagle, was launched about 
the middle of August ; and the 
English ship, named the Confiance, 
on the 25th of the same month. commodore M'DONOUGH. 

As the English army was already collecting on the frontier, the 
utmost exertions were made by both sides, and each appeared on the lake 
as he got ready. Captain M'Donough, who still commanded the Ameri- 
can force, was enabled to get out a few days before his adversary ; and 
cruising being almost out of the question on this long and narrow bodj' 
of water, he advanced as far as Plattsburg, the point selected for the 
defence, and anchored, the 3d of September, on the flank of the troops 
which occupied the entrenchments at that place. 

About this time, Sir George Prevost, the English commander-in- 




170 COMMODORK THOMAS M'DONOUGH. 

chief, with a force that probably amounted to 12,000 men, advanced 
against Plattsburg, then held by Brigadier General Macomb at the head 
of only 1,500 eflfectives. A good deal of skirmishing ensued ; and from 
the 7th to the nth, the enemy was employed in bringing u.p his batter- 
ing train, stores, and reinforcements. Captain Downie, late of the Mon- 
treal, on Lake Ontario, had been sent by Sir James Yeo, to command on 
this lake, and render all possible aid to the infantry. 

YOUNG OFFICER SEVERELY WOUNDED. 

On the 6th, Captain M'Donough ordered the galleys to the head of 
the bay, to annoy the English army, and a cannonading occurred which 
lasted two hours. The wind coming on to blow a gale that menaced the 
galleys with shipwreck, Mr. Duncan, a midshipman of the Saratoga, was 
sent in a gig to order them to retire. It is supposed that the appearance 
of the boat induced the enemy to think that Captain M'Donough himself 
had joiued his galleys ; for he concentrated afire on the galley Mr. Dun- 
can was in, and that j^oung officer received a severe wound, by which he 
lost the use of his arm. Afterwards one of the galleys drifted in, under 
the guns of the enemy, and she also sustained some loss, l"ut was 
eventually brought off. 

Captain M'Donough had chosen an anchorage a little to the south 
of the outlet of the Saranac. His vessels lay in a line parallel to the 
coast, extending north and south, and distant from the western shore 
near two miles. The last vessel at the southward was so near the shoal, 
as to prevent the English from passing that end of the line, while all 
the ships lay so far out towards Cumberland Head, as to bring the enemy 
within reach of carronades, should he enter the bay on that side. The 
Eagle, Captain Henley, la}^ at the northern extremity of the American 
line, and what might, during the battle, have been called its head, the 
wind being at the northward and eastward ; the Saratoga, Captain 
M'Donough' sown vessel, was second; the Ticonderoga, Lieutenant Com- 
mandant Cassin, third; and the Preble, Lieutenant Charles Budd, last. 
The Preble lay a little farther south than the pitch of Cumberland 



COMMODORE THOMAS M'DONOUGH. 171 

Head. The first of these vessels just mentioned was a brig of 20 guns, 
and 150 men, all told ; the second a ship of 26 guns, and 212 men ; the 
third a schooner of 17 guns and no men; the last a sloop, or cutter, of 
7 guns and 30 men. 

The galleys, on an average, had about 35 men each. The total force of 
the Americans present consisted, consequently, of 14 vessels, mounting 
86 guns, and containing about 850 men, including officers and a sinall 
detachment of soldiers, who did duty as marines, none of the corps having 
been sent on Lake Champlain. To complete his order of battle. Captain 
M'Donough directed two of the galleys to keep in-shore of the Eagle, and 
a little to windward of her, to sustain the head of the line ; one or two 
more to lie opposite to the interval between the Eagle and Saratoga ; a 
few opposite to the interval between the Saratoga and Ticonderoga ; and 
two or three opposite the interval between the Ticonderoga and Preble. 
The Americans were, consequenth', formed in two lines, distant from 
each other about 40 yards ; the large vessels at anchor, and the galleys 
under their sweeps, for the purpose of greater safety. 

SUPERIOR STRENGTH OF THE ENEMY. 

The force of the enemy was materially greater than that of the 
Americans. The whole force of Captain Downie consisted of sixteen or 
seventeen vessels, as the case may have been, mounting in all ninety- 
five (ir ninety-six guns and carrying about 1000 men. 

On the 3d of September the British gunboats sailed from Isle aux 
Noix under the orders of Captain Priug to cover the left flank of their 
army. On the 4th that officer took possession of Isle an Motte, where he 
constructed a battery and landed some supplies for the troops. On the 
8th the four larger vessels an-ived under Captain Downie, but remained 
at anchor until the i ith, waiting to receive some necessaries. At daylight 
on the morning just mentioned, the whole force weighed and moved 
forward in a body. 

The guard-boat of the Americans pulled in shortly after the sun had 
risen and announced the approach of the eneui}'. As the wind was 



172 COMMODORE THOMAS M'DONOUGH. 

fair, a good working breeze at the northward and eastward, Captain 
M'Donough ordered the vessels cleared and preparations made to fight at 
anchor. Eight bells were striking in the American squadron as the 
upper sails of the English vessels were seen passing along the land, in 
the main lake, on their way to double Cumberland Head. The enemy 
had the wind rather on his port quarter. The Finch led, succeeded by 
the Confiance, Linnet and Chubb ; while the gunboats, all of which, as 
well as those of the Americans, had two latine sails, followed without 
much order, keeping just clear of the shore. 

LINE OF BATTLE FORMED. 

The first vessel that came round the Head was a slov^p, which is said 
to have carried a company of amateurs, and which took no part in the 
engagement. She kept well to leeward, stood down towards Crab Island 
and was soon unobserved. The Finch came next, and soon after the 
other large vessels of the enemy opened from behind the land and hauled 
up to the wind in a line abreast, lying-to until their galleys could join. 
The latter passed to leeward and formed in the same manner as their 
consorts. The two squadrons were now in plain view of each other, 
distant about a league. As soon as the gunboats were in their stations, 
and the different commanders had received their orders, the English 
filled, with their starboard tacks aboard, and headed in towards the 
American vessels in a line abreast, the Chubb to windward and the Finch 
to leeward, most of the gunboats, however, being to leeward of the latter. 

The movements of the Finch had been a little singular ever since 
she led round the Head, for she is said not to have hove-to, but to have 
run off half way to Crab Island with the wind abeam, then to have tacked 
and got into her station after the other vessels had filled. This move- 
ment was probabl}^ intended to reconnoitre or to menace the rear of the 
Americans. The enemy was now standing in, close-hauled, the Chubb 
looking well to windward of the Eagle, the vessel that lay at the head of 
the American line, the Linnet laying her course for the bows of the same 
brig, the Confiance intending to fetch far enough ahead of the Saratoga 



COMMODORE THOMAS M'DONOUGH. 173 

to lay that ship athwart hawse, and the Finch, with tlie gunboats, 
standing for the Ticonderoga and Preble. 

As a matter of course the Americans were anchored wdth springs. 
But not content with this customary arrangement, CapUiin AFDonough 
had laid a kedge (small anchor) broad off on each bow of the Saratoga, 
and brought their hawsers in upon the two quarters, letting them hang 
in loops under water. This timely precaution gained the victor}-. 

LOUD CHEERS \A^HEN A ROOSTER CROWED. 

As the enemy filled the American vessels sprung their broadsides to 
bear, and a few minutes were passed in the solemn and silent expectation 
that, in a disciplined ship, precedes a battle. vSuddenlv the Eagle dis- 
charged, in quick succession, her four long eighteens. In clearing the 
decks of the Saratoga some hen-coops were thrown overboard, and the 
poultry had been permitted to run at large. Startled by the reports of 
the guns a young cock flew upon a gun-slide, clapped his wings and 
crowed. At this animating sound the men spontaneously gave three 
cheers. This little occurrence relieved the usualbreathing time between 
preparation and the combat, and it had a powerful influence on the known 
tendencies of the seamen. 

Still Captain M'Douough did not give the order to commence, 
although the enemy's galle3-s now opened, for it was apparent that the 
fire of the Eagle, which vessel continued to shoot, was useless. As 
soon, however, as it was seen that her shot told, Captain M'Donough him- 
self sighted a long twenty-four and the gun was fired. This shot is said to 
have struck the Confiance near the outer hawse-hole, and to have passed 
the length of her deck, killing and wounding several men and carrying 
awa}^ the wheel. It was a signal for all the American long guns to open, 
and it was soon seen that the English commanding ship, in particular, 
was suffering heavily. Still the enemy advanced, and in the most gal- 
lant manner, confident if he could get the desired position that the great 
weight of the Confiance would at once decide the fate of the day. 

But he had miscalculated his own powers of endurance. The 



174 COMMODORP: THOMAS M'DONOUGH. 

anchors of the Confiance were hanging by the stoppers, in readiness to be 
let go, and the bower was soon cut away, as well as a spare anchor in the 
port fore-chains. In short, after bearing the fire of the American vessels 
as long as possible, and the wind beginning to baffle, Captain Downie 
. found himself reduced to the necessity of anchoring while still at the dis- 
tance of about a quarter of a mile from the American line. The helm 
was put a-port, the ship shot into the wind, and a kedge was let go, while 
the vessel took a sheer and brought up with her starboard bower. In 
doing the latter, however, the kedge was fouled aud became of no use. 

POSITIONS OF CONTENDING SHIPS. 

In coming to, the halyards were let run and the ship hauled up her 
courses. At this time the Linnet and Chubb were still standing in, 
farther to windward, and the former, as her guns bore, fired a broadside 
at the Saratoga. The Linnet soon after anchored, somewhat nearer than 
the Confiance, getting a very favorable position forward of the Eagle's 
beam. The Chubb kept under way, intending, if possible, to rake the 
American line. The Finch got abreast of tlie Ticonderoga, under her 
sweeps, supported by the gunboats. 

The English vessels came to in very handsome style, nor did the 
Confiance fire a single gun until secured, although the American line 
was now engaged with all its force. As soon as Captain Downie had per- 
formed this duty, in a seamanlike manner, his ship appeared a sheet of 
fire, discharging all her guns at nearh- the same instant, pointed princi- 
pally at the Saratoga. The effect of this broadside was terrible in the 
little ship that received it. After the crash had subsided Captain M'Don- 
ough saw that nearly half his crew was on the deck, for many had been 
knocked down who sustained no real injuries. 

It is supposed, however, that about forty men, or near one-fifth of 
her complernent, were killed and wounded on board the Saratoga by this 
single discharge. The hatches had been fastened down, as usual, but 
the bodies so cumbered the deck that it was found necessary to remove 
the fastenings and to pass them below. The effect continued but a 



COMMODORE THOMAS M'DONOUGH. 175 

iiioiuent, when the ship resumed her fire as gallantly as ever. Among 
the slain was Mr. Peter Gamble, the first lieutenant. By this early loss 
but one officer of that rauk, acting Lieutenant Lavellette, was left in the 
Saratoga. Shortl}' after Captain Downie, the English commanding 
officer, fell also. 

On the part of the principal vessels the battle now became a steady, 
animated, but, as guns were injured, a gradually decreasing cannonade. 
Still, the cliaracter of the battle was relieved by several little incidents 
that merit uotice. The Chubb, while mancEUvering near the head of the 
American line, received a broadside from the Eagle that crippled her, and 
she drifted down between the opposing vessels until near the Saratoga, 
which ship fired a shot into her and she immediately struck. 

CONSIDERED A FAVORABLE OMEN. 

Mr. Piatt, one of the Saratoga's midshipmen, was sent with a boat to 
take possession. This young officer threw the prize a line and towed her 
down astern of the Saratoga, and in-shore, anchoring her near the mouth 
of the Saranac. This little success occurred within a quarter of an hour 
after the enemy had anchored, and was considered a favorable omen, 
though all well knew that on the Confiance alone depended the fate of 
the day. The Chubb had suffered materially, nearly half of her people 
having been killed and wounded. 

About an hour later, the Fiuch was also driven out of her berth, by 
the Ticouderoga ; and being crippled, she drifted down upon Crab Island 
Shoal, where, receiving a shot or two from the gun mounted in the bat- 
tery, she struck, and was taken possession of by the invalids belonging 
to the hospital. At this end of the line, the British galleys early made 
several desperate efforts to close ; and soon after the Finch had drifted 
away, they forced the Preble out of the American line, that vessel cut- 
ting her cable and shifting her anchorage to a station considerably in- 
shore, where she was of no more service throughout the day. The rear 
of the American line was certainly its weakest point ; and having com- 
pelled the little Preble to retreat, the enemy's galleys were emboldened 



176 COMMODORE THOMAS M'DONOUGH. 

to renew tlieir efforts against the vessel ahead of her, which was the 
Ticonderoga. This schooner was better able to resist them, and she was 
very nobly fought. 

Her spirited commander. Lieutenant Commandant Cassin, walked 
the taffrail where he could watch the movements of the enemy's galleys, 
amidst showers of canister and grape, directing discharges of bags of 
musket-balls, and other light missiles, effectually keeping the British at 
bay. Several times the English galleys, of which many were very gal- 
lantly fought, closed quite near, with an intent to board ; but the great 
steadiness on board the Ticonderoga beat them back, and completely 
covered the rear of the line for the remainder of the day. So desperate 
were some of the assaults, notwithstanding, that the galleys have been 
described as several times getting nearly within a boathook's length of 
the schooner, and their people as rising from the sweeps in readiness to 

spring. 

AMERICANS BADLY DAMAGED. 

While these reverses and successes were occurring in the rear of the 
two lines, the Americans were suffering heavily at the other extremit}'. 
The Linnet had got a very commanding position, and she was admirably 
fought; while the Eagle, which received all her fire, and part of that of the 
Confiance, having lost her springs, found herself so situated, as not to 
be able to bring her guns fairly to bear on either of the enemy's vessels. 
Captain Henley had run his topsail-yards, with the sails stopped, to the 
mast-heads, previously to engaging, and he now cut his cable, sheeted 
home his topsails, cast the brig, and running down, anchored by the stern, 
^tween the Saratoga and Ticonderoga, necessarily a little in-shore of 
both. Here he opened afresh, and with better effect, on the Confiance 
and galleys, using his larboard guns. But this movement left the Sara- 
toga exposed to nearly the whole fire of the Linnet, which brig now 
sprung her broadside in a manner to rake the American ship on her bows. 

Shortly after this important change had occurred at the head of the 
lines, the fire of the two ships began materially to lessen, as gun after 
gun became disabled ; the Saratoga, in particular, having had all her 



COMMODORE THOMAS M'DONOUGH. 177 

long pieces rendered useless by shot, while most of the carronades 
were dismounted, either in the same manner, or in consequence of a dispo- 
sition in the men to overcharge them. At length but a single carrouade 
remained in the starboard batteries, and on iiring it, the navel bolt broke, 
the gun flew off the carriage, and it actually fell down the main hatch. 
By this accident, the American commanding vessel was left in the middle 
of the battle, without a single available gun. Nothing remaine'^ but to 
make an immediate attempt to wind the ship. 

MANEUVERING FOR ADVANTAGES. 

The stream anchor suspended astern, was let go accordingly. The 
men then clapped on the hawser that led to the starboard quarter, and 
brought the ship's stern up over the kedge ; but here she hung, there 
not being sufficient wind, or current, to force her bows round. A line 
had been bent to a bight in the stream cable, with a view to help wind 
the ship, and she now rode by the kedge and this line, with her stern 
under the rakiug broadside of the Linnet, which brig kept up a steady 
and well-directed fire. The port batteries having been manned aud got 
ready. Captain M'Donough ordered all the men from the guns, where 
they were uselessly suffering, telling them to go forward. 

By rowsing on the line, the ship was at length got so far round 
that the aftermost gun would bear on the Coniiauce, when it was instantly 
manned, and began to play. The next gun was used in the same man- 
ner, but it was soon apparent that the ship could be got no farther round, 
for she was now nearh^ end-on to the wind. At this critical moment, 
Mr. Brum, the master, bethought him of the hawser that led to the lar- 
board quarter. It was got forward under the bows, and passed aft to the 
starboard quarter, when the ship's stern was immediate!}^ sprung to the 
westward, so as to bring all her port guns to bear ou the English ship, 
with fatal effect. 

As soon as the preparations were made to wind the Saratoga, the 

Coufiance attempted to perform the same evolution. Her springs were 

hauled on, but they merely forced the ship ahead, and having borne the 
12 



178 COMMODORE TF^OMAS M'DONOUGH. 

fresh broadside of the Americans, until she had scarcely a gun with 
which to return the fire, and failing iu all herefTorts to get round, about 
two hours and a quarter after the commencement of the action, her com- 
manding officer lowered his flag. By hauling again upon the starboard 
haws«r, the Saratoga's broadside was immediately sprung to bear on the 
Linnet, which brig struck about fifteen minutes after her consort. 

The enemy's galleys had been driven back, nearly or quite half a 
mile, and they lay irregularly scattered, and setting to leeward, keeping 
up a desultory firing. As soon as they found that the large vessels had 
submitted, they ceased ths combat, and lowered their colors. At this 
proud moment, it is believed, on authority entitled to the highest respect, 
there was not a single English ensign, out of sixteen or seventeen, that 
had so lately been flying, left abroad in the bay ! 

LAMENTABLE DESTRUCTION OF LIFE. 

In this long and bloody conflict, the Saratoga had twenty-eight men 
killed, and twenty-nine wounded, or more than a fourth of all on board 
her; the Eagle thirteen killed, and twenty wounded, which was sustain- 
ing a loss in nearly an equal proportion ; the Ticonderoga six killed, and 
six wounded ; the Preble two killed ; while on board the ten galleys, onlj' 
three were killed, and three wounded. The Saratoga was hulled fifty- 
five times, principally by twenty-four-pound shot ; and the Eagle, thirty- 
nine times. 

According to the report of Captain Pring, of the Linnet, dated on 
the 1 2th of September, the Confiance lost forty-one killed, and forty 
wounded. It was admitted, however, that no good opportunity had then 
existed to ascertain the casualties. At a later day, the English them- 
selves enumerated her wounded at eighty-three. This would make the 
total loss of that ship 124; but even this number is supposed to be 
materially short of the truth. The Liunet is reported to have had ten 
killed, and fourteen wounded. This loss is also believed to be consider- 
ably below the fact. The Chubb had six killed, and ten wounded. The 
Finch was reported by the enemy to have had but two men wounded. 



COMMODORE THOMAS M'DONOUGH. 



179 



No American official report of the casualties in tlie English vessels 
has been published ; but by an estimate made on the best data that could 
be found, the Liunet was thought to have lost fifty men, and the two 
smaller vessels taken, about thirty between them. No account what- 
ever has been published of the casualties on board the English galleys, 
though the slaughter in them is believed to have been very heavy. 







SCENE OF THE BATTLE OF LAKE CHAMPLAIN. 

As soon as the Linnet struck, a lieutenant was sent to take posses- 
sion of the Coufiance. Bad as was the situation of the Saratoga, that of 
the prize was much worse. She had been hulled 105 times ; had prob- 
ably near, if not quite, half her people killed and wounded ; and this 
formidable floating battery was reduced to helpless impotency. 

As the boarding officer was passing along the deck of the prize, he 



180 COMMODORE THOMAS M'DONOUGH. 

accidentally ran against a lock-string, and fired one of the Confiance's 
starboard guns. Up to this moment the English galleys had been slowly 
drifting to leeward, with their colors down, apparently waiting to be taken 
possession of; but at the discharge of this gun, which may have been 
understood as a signal, one or two of them began to move slowly off, and i 
soon after the others followed, pulling but a very few sweeps. It is not 
known that one of them hoisted her ensign. Captain M'Donough made 
a signal for the American galleys to follow, but it was discovered that 
their men were wanted at the pumps of some of the larger vessels, to 
keep them from sinking, the water being found over the berth-deck of 
the Linnet, and the signal was revoked. As there was not a mast that 
would bear any canvas among all thelarger vessels, the English galleys 
escaped, though they went off slowly and irregularly, as if distrusting 
their own liberty. 

GALLANT CONDUCT OF AMERICAN OFFICERS. 

Captain M'Donough applauded the conduct of all the officers of the 
Saratoga. Mr. Gamble died at his post, fighting bravely ; Mr. Lavallette, 
the only lieutenant left, displayed the cool discretion that marks the 
character of this highly respectable and firm officer, and Mr. Brum, the 
master, who was entrusted with the important duty of winding the ship, 
never lost his self-possession for an instant. Captain Henley praised 
the conduct of his officers, as did Lieutenant-Commandant Cassin. The 
galleys behaved very unequally ; but the Borer, Mr. Conover ; Netley, 
Mr. Breese ; one under the orders of Mr. Robins, a master, and one or 
two more, were considered to have been very gallantly handled. 

There was a common feeling of admiration at the manner in which 
the Ticonderoga, Lieutenant-Commandant Cassin, defended the rear of 
the line, and at the noble conduct of all on board her. 

The Saratoga was twice on fire by hot shot thrown from the Con- 
fiance, her spanker having been nearly consumed. No batter}' from the 
American shore, with the exception of the gun or two fired at the Finch 
from Crab Island, took any part in the naval encounter ; nor could any, 



COMMODORE THOMAS M'DONOUGH. 181 

without endangering the American vessels equally with the enemy. 
Indeed the distance renders it questionable whether shot would have 
reached with effect, as Captain M'Donough had anchored far off the land, 
in order to compel the enemy to come within range of his short guns. 

The Americans found a furnace on board the Confiance, with eight 
or ten heated shot in it, though the fact is not stated with any view to 
attribute it to the enemy as a fault. It was an advantage that he pos- 
sessed, most probably in consequence of the presence of a part}^ of 
artillerists, who had a share in the hot fight. 

COMMANDERS SPLENDID SKILL AND BRAVERY. 

Captain M'Donough, who was already very favorably known to the 
service for his personal intrepidity, obtained a vast accession of reputa- 
tion by the results of this day. His dispositions for receiving the attacks 
were highly judicious and seamanlike. By the manner in which he 
anchored his vessels, with the shoal so near the rear of his line as to cover 
that extremity, and the land of Cumberland Head so near his broadside 
as necessarily to bring the enemy within reach of his short guns, he made 
all his force completely available. The English were not near enough, 
perhaps, to give to carronades their full effect ; but this disadvantage was 
unavoidable, the assailing party having, of course, a choice in the distance. 

All that could be obtained, under the circumstances, appears to have 
been secured, and the result proved the wisdom of the actual arrange- 
ment. The personal deportment of Captain M'Donough in this engage- 
ment, like that of Perry in the battle of Lake Erie, was the subject of 
general admiration in his little squadron. His coolness was undisturbed 
throughout all the trying scenes on board his own ship, and although lying 
against a vessel of double the force, and nearly double the tonnage of the 
Saratoga, he met and resisted her attack with a constancy that seemed to 
set defeat at defiance. The winding of the Saratoga, under such circum- 
stances, exposed as she was to the raking broadsides of the Confiance and 
Linnet, especially the latter, was a bold, seamanlike, and masterly measure, 
that required unusual decision and fortitude to imagine and execute. 



182 COMMODORE THOMAS M'DONOUGH. 

Most men would have believed that, without a single gun on the side 
engaged, a fourth of their people cut down, and their ship a wreck, 
enough injur}- had been received to justify submission; but Captain 
M'Donough found the means to secure a victory in the desperate con- 
dition of his own vessel. 

Captain M'Donough, besides the usual medal from Congress, and 
various compliments and gifts from different states and towns, was pro- 
moted for his services. Captain Henley also received a medal. The 
■"egislature of Vermont presented the former with a small estate on Cum- 
berland Head, which overlooked the scene of his triumph. The officers 
and crews met with the customary acknowledgements, and the country 
generally placed the victory by the side of that of Lake Erie. In the 
navy, which is better qualified to enter into just estimates of force, and 
all the other circumstances that enhance the merits of nautical exploits, 
the battle of Plattsburg Bay is justly ranked among the very highest of 
its claims to glory. 

The consequences of this victory were immediate and important. 
During the action, Sir George Prevost had skirmished sharply in front 
of the American works, and was busy in making demonstrations for a 
more serious attack. As soon, however, as the fate of the British squad- 
ron was ascertained, he made a precipitate and unmilitary retreat, aban- 
doning much of his heavy artillery, stores, and supplies, and from that 
moment to the end of the war, the northern frontier was cleared of the 
enemy. 

The gallant sailor who won the battle of Lake Champlain lives in 
historj- as Commodore M'Donough. He died in 1825. 




CHAPTER IX. 

REAR ADMIRAL BUCHANAN 

AND 

LIEUTENANT WORDEN 

HEROES OF THE MERRIMAC AND MONITOR 
— FAMOUS NAVAL BATTLE — THE DAVID 
^ AND GOLIATH OF WARSHIPS — COOL BRAVERY OF COM- 
MANDERS — FIGHT THAT REVOLUTIONIZED NAVAL WARFARE. 

In tracing tlie history of the great western campaign of our Civil 
War, in 1862, it will be noticed that an important part was played by 
gunboats on the Tennessee and Ohio rivers. It was naturallj^ to be 
expected that war vessels, suitably constructed, would pla}- an equally 
important part in the bays and rivers more to the east, and which 
connect themselves with the waters of the Atlantic. 

One of the great events of the early part of 1862 wag the appaar- 
ance in Hampton Roads of the powerful iron-clad man-of-war Merrira;ic, 
which had been reconstructed by the Confederate Governmsnt and named 
Virginia. When the Norfolk Navy Yard was abandoned by the 
Nationals, this vessel was scuttled and sunk. In her original form she 
was a powerful steam frigate of forty guns, and she had cost the govern- 
ment, for building and furnishing her, a sum not less than a million 
and a quarter dollars. The Confederates found little (difficulty in raising 
her, and the hull being in perfect condition, a substantial basis existed 
for the construction of a gigantic and dangerous vessel. 

A plan was fiirnished by Lieutenant John M. Brooke, formerly of 
the National navy ; and, reconstructed after the fashion of the s'hot-proof 
raft which had been used in Charleston harbor, she became one of the 
strongest and most destructive engines of war which had ever been seen 

183 



1S4 BUCHANAN AND WORDEN. 

floating on an}^ waters. When properly cnt down she was covered with 
an iron roof projecting into the water. At or below the water line the 
mail extended the opposite way, so that a shot striking above the water- 
mark wonld glance npward, and below the water mark would glance 
downward. She was simply a broadside ironclad with sloping armor. 
Her great bulk enabled her to carry a formidable battery. She was 
armed with a powerful steel beak, and carried eleven guns, with a one 
hundred-pound rifled Armstrong at each end. 

A MONSTER FITTED TO CREATE TERROR. 

Such a monster might well be a terror as a surprise. It was known 
that the vessel was undergoing reconstruction, andthatit was intended to 
make her a terrible engine of war ; but strange rumors were circulated 
to her disadvantage by the Confederate authorities ; and it is probable 
that, until she was seen at Hampton Roads, she was somewhat despised 
by the officers of the National navy. The Southern newspapers artfully 
circulated that "the IMerrimac was a failure," and, the wish being father 
to the thought, the statement was too readily believed b}' the Federals. 
Her commander was Franklin Buchanan, who was born in Baltimore, 
and entered the navy about 1815. He was captain wdien the Civil War 
broke out, but resigned his commission in 1861, entered the Confederate 
service, and was noted for his bravery and his ability in handling war 
craft. He commanded the iron-clad Tennessee in Mobile Bay, August, 
1S64, where he was defeated by Admiral Farragut and taken prisoner. 
The intrepid Buchanan, as we have said was the commander of the 
Alerrimac, and his exploits on this occasion stamped him as a hero of 
the highest rank. About noon, on Saturdaj', the 8th of March, observ- 
ers at Fortress Monroe saw a strange object, "looking like a sub- 
merged house, with the roof onl}^ above Avater," moving down the 
Elizabeth River toward Hampton Roads. It was the dreadful Merrimac. 
Two smaller armed steamboats accompanied her. Almost immediately 
after their appearance, two other Confederate gunboats came down from 
Richmond and took positions in the James River, a little above Newport 



BUCHANAN AND WORDEN. 185 

News. Signal guns were at once fired from the Union batteries and by 
the ships Cumberland and Congress, lying off and blockading the James 
River, to give warning to the rest of the National fleet. 

Accompanied by the two smaller vessels the Merrimacmoved steadily 
on towards the Cumberland and Congress. The Congress, a sailing 
frigate, was commanded by Lieutenant Joseph B. Smith. The sloop of 
war, Cumberland, 24 guns and 376 men, was commanded temporarilv by 
Lieutenant George Morris. Pursuing the Congress, and giving and 
receiving a broadside, the Merrimac made straight for the Cumberland. 
This vessel had been placed across the channel so as to bring her broad- 
side to bear on her antagonist ; and as the Merrimac approached she 
opened upon the monster and poured forth a rapid fire. It was no use. The 
heavy shot from the nine and ten inch guns of the Cumberland glanced 
from her rival's shield of iron, "like so many peas. " The Merrimac 
seemed stunned for an instant by the weight of the shot ; but she quickly 
recovered ; and having increased her speed, she rushed against the 
Cumberland, striking her with her steel prow about amidships, and 
'' literally la^'ing her open. " 

AN IMPENETRABLE COAT OF MAIL. 

Before striking the Cumberland, the Merrimac had received some 
seven or eight broadsides ; but they produced no impression on her 
invulnerable coat of mail. As she struck, she opened her ports and 
poured in on the unfortunate Cumberland, now rapidl}' filling with water, 
a most destructive fire. The Cumberland fought well ; but the combat 
was unequal. Buchanan gradually drew off the Merrimac ; and again 
opening his ports, he rushed against his disabled antagonist, this time 
completely crushing in her side. 

It was now all over with the Cumberland. Giving a parting fire to 
the monster which was retiring from the ruin it had wrought, with 
apparent indifference, Morris ordered his men to jump overboard and save 
themselves. This was quickh* done ; and in a few minutes afterwards, 
the vessel went down in fifty-four feet of water, carrying with her aboui 



piiiiffliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiKi 




186 



BUCHANAN AND WORDEN. 187 

one hundred of dead, sick and wounded, who could not be moved. The 
topmast of the Cumberland remained partially above the water, with her 
flag flying from its peak. 

It was now nearly four o'clock in the afternoon. Having fini.shed 
the Cumberland, the Merrimac now turned her attention to the sailing 
frigate Congress. We have seen that just as the Merrimac appeared by 
the way of the Elizabeth River two other vessels came down the James, 
as if by a preconcerted arrangement. These vessels were the Yoi'ktown 
and the Jamestown, or, as the latter was now called, the Patrick Henry. 
While the Merrimac was engaged with the Cumberland, the Yorktown 
and the Jamestown, which had successfully passed the National batteries 
at Newport News, had tackled the Congress. Until the Cumberland 
went down the Congress made a gallant and successful resistance. With 
the help of the Zouave, she then managed to run aground undercover of 
the strong batteries just named. 

ON FIRE IN A NUMBER OF PLACES. 

There she was beyond reach of the Merrimac's prow, but she was not 
beyond the range of her guns. As soon, therefore, as that vessel came 
up she opened fire upon the unfortunate Congress, which could not reply 
with her stern guns, one of which was soon dismounted by the Merrimac's 
shot and the other had the muzzle knocked oflF. Lieutenant Smith, Act- 
ing Master Moore and Pilot William Rhodes, with nearly half the crew, 
were killed or wounded. The Merrimac moved backward and forward 
slowly, firing at a range of less than a hundred yards. The Congress 
now took fire in several places. 

Further resistance would have been worse than foolishness, and so 
Lieutenant Prendergast haxiled down the flag. A tug came alongside to 
haul her off, but the batteries on shore drove off the tug, and the Merri- 
mac, despite the white flag which was flying over her in token of sur- 
render, again opened fire upon the battered and helpless vessel. Later 
in the day the Merrimac returned and set the Congress on fire by red- 
hot shot, and her magazine exploded with a tremendous noise. 



i88 BUCHANAN AND WORDEN. 

Those of her crew which survived the first attack had meanwhile 
made good their escape. About one half of the whole, 218 out of 434, 
responded to the call of their names next morning at Newport News. 
In little more than two hours the Merrimac had destroyed two of the 
best ships in the National service ; and Buchanan, her commander, had 
the satisfaction— if satisfaction it was — of killing or drowning more thar 
three hundred of his old comrades. 

HURRIED TO THE SCENE OF ACTION. 

When the Merrimac first made her appearance in the early part of 
the day, the flag-ship of the National squadron, the Roanoke, Captain 
John Marston, and the steam frigate Minnesota, Captain Van Brunt, 
were lying at Fortress Monroe, several miles distant. These were at 
once signalled to hurr}' forward to the assistance of the Cumberland, the 
Congress, and the other vessels now so sorely menaced. It was not pos- 
sible for them to be forward in time to render any effective aid. Flag- 
officer Marston had responded to the signal as quickly as possible. His 
own ship was disabled in its machinery ; but, with the help of two tugs, 
he set out for the scene of action. 

The Minnesota was ordered to hasten in the same direction. When 
passing SewalTs Point, the Minnesota came within range of a Confeder- 
ate battery there, and had her mainmast crippled. This, however, was 
not the onh' misfortune which she was destined to experience ; she drew 
twenty-three feet of water; and although it was known that the water 
was dangerously shallow, it was thought that, the botton being soft, it 
would be possible to push her through. It was a mistake. When with- 
in about a mile and a half of Newport News, the vessel grounded and 
stuck fast. 

While in this helpless condition, the Merrimac, having destroyed 
the Cumberland, and having retired after her first attack on the Con- 
gress, came down upon her. Fortunately it was not possible for the 
IMerrimac to get within a mile of her intended victim, her own heavy 
draught preventing a nearer approach. At this distance, an ineffective 



I 



BUCHANAN AND WORDEN. 189 

fire was opened by both vessels. Some of the smaller armed steamboats 
ventured nearer, and with their rifled guns killed and wounded several 
men on board the Minnesota. Some of these, however, paid dearly for 
their rashness ; for, grounded as she was, her guns were ably handled, 
and with great rapidity. 

It was now seven o'clock ; and counting, no doubt, on an easy victory 
on the morrow, the Merrimac. with her companion ships, retired behind 
Sewall's Point. The Minnesota still lay fast in the mud ; and although 
during the night several attempts were made to get her off, it was found 
impossible to move her. The Roanoke and the St. Lawrence, on their 
way to the scene of conflict, had both got aground ; but with the rising 
tide they were relieved, and moved down the Roads. 

CRISIS OF IMMENSE IMPORT. 

It was Saturday night, March Sth, and when the sun went down the 
prospect for the following morning was the reverse of cheering to the 
National commanders. There could be no doubt that the Merrimac 
would renew the battle in the morning. In such a case, the result, 
unless some unexpected aid arrived, would be disastrous in the 
extreme. The Minnesota would be the first victim, and helpless as she 
was, her destruction was certain. If any of the other vessels were 
spared they would surely endeavor to make their escape. The harbor of 
Hampton Roads would be lost. The Merrimac would be free to prose- 
cute her work of destruction. Fortress Monroe would be in danger, and 
who could say that the harbor of New York was safe while such a 
monster was afloat ? 

General Wool, commander of Fortress Monroe, telegraphed to 
Washington that the capture of the Minnesota was all but certain, and 
that " it was thought the Merrimac, Jamestown and Yorktown would 
pass the fort to-night." It was the opinion of that officer that if the 
Merrimac, instead of passing on, attacked the fortress, it would not be 
possible to hold the place for more than a few days. 

Happily relief was at hand. At nine o'clock that night the 



190 BUCHANAN AND WORDEN. |: 

Monitor, Ericsson's new iron-clad turret ship, arrived at Fortress Monroe 
from New York. This vessel, which was a dwarf beside the Merrimac, 
and which was of novel form and appearance, had been built at Green 
Point, Long Island, New York, under the direction of its inventor. 
Captain Jolin Ericsson — a Swede by birth, but who had been a resident 
of the United States for twenty years. Ericsson had already won dis- 
tinction as a practical scientist in Sweden and in England, and in 1842, 
having come to the United States, he built for the government the United 
States steamer Princeton, the first screw-propeller in the world. The 
Monitor was one of three vessels — the other two were the Galena and 
the New Ironsides — which were constructed to meet the emergenc}- and 
by special requirement of the government. 

SINGULAR LOOKING VESSEL. 

Ericsson's plan was to secure the greatest possible power, both for 
attack and resistance, with the least possible exposure of surface. The 
hull of the Monitor admirably met all those requirements. It was buoyant, 
yet it was almost entirely under water. It presented to the enemy a 
target which was wonderfully small, but which, because of the concen- 
tration of iron and timber, was absolutely impregnable — proof against 
the heaviest artillery of the day. Concentration was Ericsson's object 
in the construction of the hull, so far as defence or resistance was 
concerned. He followed the same plan in regard to the offensive part of 
the ship. 

In the centre of his raft-like vessel he fixed a revolving cylinder of 
wrought iron, of sufl&cient diameter to allow of two heav}' guns and just 
high enough to give the gunners standing room. When finished the 
total length of the Monitor was 172 feet. This covered the armor and 
what is called the "overhang." The length of the hull proper was 124 
feet. Her total beam over armor and backing was 41 ^ feet — the beam 
of the hull proper being 34 feet. Her depth was 11 feet ; her draught 10 
feet. The diameter of the turret inside was 20 feet; the height was 9 
feet; the thickness 8 inches, there being 5 inches of wrought iron and 3 



BUCHANAN AND WORDEN. 191 

feet of oak. The total weight, with everything on board, was 900 
tons. 

As an engine of war, the Monitor was, in the strictest sense of the 
word, a novelty. Nothing of the kind had ever before existed. Not un- 
naturally, therefore, very different opinions prevailed as to the fitness of 
the vessel for the purposes contemplated. Had the Monitor gone to the 
bottom as she slid from the stocks at Greenpoint, she would only have 
fulfilled the predictions and justified the expectations of many promi- 
nent scientific men who were present when she was launched. The 
strange-looking little ship, as we shall presently see, was to have a dif- 
ferent and more glorious future. 

According to the terms of the contract the Monitor was not to be 
accepted by the government until her seagoing powers were tested, and 
until she had made trial of her strength with the heaviest guns of the 
enemy. This, therefore, was her trial trip ; and never, perhaps, in the 
history of auj' ship of war was a trial trip more severely tested or more 
completely successful. Lieutenant John L. Worden was in command. 

COMMANDER OF THE MONITOR. 

Worden was born in Westchester county. New York, March 12, 1818. 
He entered the navy in 1S34, and became a lieutenant in 1840. In April, 
1861, he was sent as a bearer of despatches to Fort Pickens or Pensacola. 
He was arrested as he was returning by land, and was kept in prison 
seven months. After leaving command of the Monitor, he was made 
captain in February, 1863, and commanded the ironclad Montauk in the 
operations against Fort Sumter in April of that year. In June, 1868, 
he was appointed a commodore. His superb courage, admirable skill as 
a commander, and noble qualities as a man, are fully recognized in our 
naval history. 

Having assumed command of the Monitor, he started with the odd 
little craft from New York. The weather was extremely rough. For 
three days the Monitor battled with the storm ; but more than once 
victory was doubtful. The sea rolled over her decks, the turret alone 



192 BUCHANAN AND WORDEN. 

being above tbe water. At one time the tiller-rope was thrown oflf the 
wheel, and the situation was really critical. The draft pipe was choked 
by the pouring down of the water ; and but for the ventilation obtained 
through the turret, the men would have been suffocated. More than 
once during thevogage the fires were extinguished. After such a voyage 
the crew, as was to be expected, were completel}^ exhausted. 

We have seen that the Monitor reached Fortress Monroe at 9 
o'clock, on the evening of Saturday, the 8th of March. But for this 
storm the Monitor might have been up in time to prevent the disaster 
of the previous day ; for it is now known that the Confederates, informed 
by spies of the forwardness of the Monitor, had made almost super- 
human efforts to have the work on the Alerrimac finished, so as to give 
her an opportunity of destroying the National fleet at Hampton Roads 
before her great rival could appear on the scene. 

ON THE EVE OF THE GREAT COMBAT. 

As it was. Lieutenant Worden lost no time after his arrival at 
Fortress Monroe. Within a few minutes he had reported to the flag 
officer in the Roads, received orders and sailed to join the disabled fleet. 
Soon after midnight, on the morning of the 9th, he anchored his little 
vessel alongside the Minnesota. 

Never did relief arrive more opportuneh^ It was a night to be re- 
membered — that of the 8th of March, 1862, at Hampton Roads. The 
Confederates were flushed with success. The Nationals were downcast, 
as well they might be, but by no means desperate. Norfolk was illumi- 
nated; and the Confederate ofiicers and sailors were rejoicing and carous- 
ing with her grateful citizens. On the one side, there was tbe certain 
conviction that to-morrow would bring with it an easy victor}'. On the 
other side there was a sullen determination to resist to the last, and a 
dim, ill-defined hope that some effective aid was to be expected from the 
strange little vessel which had just arrived. 

As the night wore on, the waters and the' adjacent coast were 
brilliantly lit up by the flames of the burning Congress ; and ever and 



BUCHANAN AND WORDEN. 1«J3 

anon, at irregular intervals, a shotted gun would boom over the dull 
waters aud startle the quiet air, as the spreading flames ignited its 
charge. The ship had been burning for ten hours, when, about one 
o'clock, the fire having reached the magazine, she blew up with a terrific 
noise, filling the air and strewing the waters far and wide with masses 
of burning timber. 

Sunday morning broke beautiful and clear. The Congress had dis- 
appeared ; but the masts and yards of the Cumberland projected above 
the water, and her ensign was flying in its accustomed place. As sad 
evidences of the suddenness of her destruction, the dead bodies of her 
brave defenders floated in large numbers around the ship. Before the 
sun had fully revealed himself, and paled by his brighter light the lurid 

imes of the burning fragments of the Congress, the IMerrimac was seen 
L.)raing down from Sewall's Point. Evidentl}- she was bent on complet- 
ing the work of the previous day. The drums of the Merrimac beat U 

uarters and there were quick preparations. 

GAVE ORDERS FOR INSTANT ATTACK. 

Worden was ready. Taking his position at the peep-hole of the 
Hot-house of the Monitor, he gave orders for an immediate attack. The 
Vlerrimac made direct for the Minnesota, and from the course she took 
t was apparently the intention of her commander to capture that vessel, 
if possible, and carrj' her back as a prize to Norfolk, where hundreds of 
people lined the shores, awaiting his triumphant return. As she 
approached the stern guns of the Minnesota opened upon her, but to little 
purpose , for the stacks and the sloping sides of the huge monster had 
been smeared with tallow, and the shot, heavy as it was, glanced harm- 
lessly oft". Meanwhile the little Monitor, to the astonishment of all, ran 
out from under the Minnesota's quarter and placed herself alongside of 
the Merrimac, completely covering the Minnesota '' as far as was possi- 
ble with her diminutive dimensions." 

The contrast was striking. It was more — it was almost ridiculous. 

David and Goliath ! It seemed as if the Merrimac had but to move upon 
13 



104 BUCHANAN AND WORDEN. 

the insignificant, almost invisible thing, tonch it with her iron prow, and 
make an end of it forever. Bnt it was not .so. This other giant had 
fonnd more than a match in this other stripling. The IMerrimac let fly a 
broadside, and the Inrret of the Monitcn" began to revolve. Both vessels, 
as we have shown alread}', were heavil}- armed. The IMerrimac had on 
each side two 73/^-inch rifles and 4 9-inch Dahlgrens. The ]\Ionitor had 
in her tnrret two ii-inch gnns, each capable of flinging a shot of 16S 
ponnds. The tnrret kept revolving , bnt the ponderons shot of the Mon- 
itor rattled in vain against the mail-clad sides of the Alerriniac. Broad- 
side followed broadside in rapid succession, bnt the heav}- metal dis- 
charged by the guns of the Merrimac made no impression on the wronght- 
iron citadel of the Monitor, which stood like a Gibraltar. 

BATTLE ROYAL BETWEEN GIANTS. 

Unlike as were the two ships, it was really a battle of giants. '' Gnn 
after gnn," saj-s Captain Van Brnnt, of the Minnesota, 'Svas fired by 
the Monitor, which was retnrned with whole broadsides from the enemy, 
with no more eftect apparently than so man}^ pebble stones thrown by a 
child, clearly establishing the fact that wooden vessels cannot contend 
with iron clad ones , for never before was anything like it dreamed of by 
the greatest enthnsiasts in maritime warfare." After the first vigorous 
onset there was some manoeuvring for positions, the Monitor seeking the 
port holes of the Merrimac, the latter all the while pouring her heav}- 
shot on the invulnerable turret of her plucky little antagonist. One bolt 
from a rifle-gun struck the turret squarely, and penetrated the iron. ''It 
then broke short off and left its head sticking in." 

Five times the Merrimac attempted to run the Monitor down, but on 
each occasion she received, at the distance of a few feet, the heav}' shot 
of the ii-inch guns. In one of these encounters the Merrimac got 
aground, and the Monitor, being light of draught, steamed easily around, 
moving and hitting like a skilled pugilist, her lightning-like fire striking 
her antagonist at ever}- vulnerable point. The IMerrimac began to show 
signs of punishment. Her armor plate was bending under the blows. 



BUCHANAN AND WORDEN. 195 

As if despairing of accomplishing anything definite or satisfactor}^ 

with the Monitor, the Merrimac tnrned away from her agile and rather 

dangerous antagonist and renewed her attack ou the Minnesota. Van 

Brunt, as he himself tells us, was on his guard, and gave the monster a 

warm reception. He opened upon her all his broadside guns, with a 

ten-inch pivot gun besides. So terrific was the broadside that " it was 

enough," to quote Van Brunt's language, "to blow out of the water any 

timber built ship in the world." It produced, however, but very little 

effect. 

MONITOR CHASES HER ANTAGONIST. 

The Merrimac gave a hearty response. From her rifled bow gun 
she fluug one of her terrible shells, which went crashing through the 
side of the Minnesota, exploding on its way two charges of powder, and 
finally bursting in the boatswain's apartments, tearing four rooms into 
one and setting the ship on fire. Another shell burst the boiler of the 
tugboat Dragon, which lay alongside the Minnesota. During the 
encounter, which was brief, the guns of the Minnesota had hit the Mer- 
rimac at least fifty times, producing little or no impression. 

A second time the Monitor comes to the aid of the ^^linnesota. The 
Merrimac finds it necessary to change her position, and in doing so, 
again gets grounded. The Minnesota again finds her opportunity, and 
her heavy guns are opened on her stranded foe. The broadsides are 
now telling on the thick armor-plates of the Merrimac. Catesby Joues, 
who was in command, Buchanan having been wounded on the previous 
day, evidently regarded his situation as critical, and, accordingly, as 
soon as he got the Merrimac afloat, he turned her prow toward Norfolk. 
The Monitor gave chase. Irritated by the pertinacity of the little ship, 
the Merrimac turned round on her pursuer and rushed upon her at ful> 
speed, as if resolved to run her down. It was a vain attempt, although, 
judging from the appearance of things, it was by no means either 
unnatural or unwise 

The huge beak of the Merrimac grated ou the deck of the Monitor 
and was wrenched. Such a blow had sent the Cumberland down on 



19H imCHANAN AND WORDKN. 

the Saturda}-. Such a blow, had it been possible to deal it, would doubt- 
less have proved equally fatal to the Minnesota, or indeed to any wooden 
ship afloat. It left the Monitor uninjured. The little vessel glided 
nimbly out from under her antagonist, and in doing so, the two ships 
being almo.st in actual contact, she opened upon her with one of her 
heavy turret guns, striking her with a force which seemed to crush in 
her armor. Quick as lightning the concentrated shot of the Merriniac 
«attled against the turret and pilot-house of the Monitor. The encounter 
WPS terrific ; but the armor of both vessels was shot-proof, and for the 
first time in naval warfare, heavy and well-directed cannon were found to 
be comparatively worthless, doing little damage. 

SHOTS THAT TOLD WITH STARTLING EFFECT. 

At this stage the Monitor hauled ofif for the purpose of hoisting 
more shot into her turret. Catesby Jones, imagining that he had 
silenced his small but formidable antagonist, made another move towards 
the Minnesota. Before he had time to open fire, the Monitor was steaming 
up towards him. He changed his course at once; and it was now notice- 
able that the Merrimac was sagging at her stern. A well-directed shot 
from the Monitor had hit the Merrimac at the junction of the casemate 
with the ship's side and caused a leak. Another shot about the same 
moment had penetrated the boiler of one of the Merrimac's tenders, 
enveloping her in steam, and scalding a large number of her crew. 
Latterly the Monitor had been firing low, and every shot told with 
greater or less effect 

The Monitor, however, was not to be allowed to escape uninjured. 
The last shot fired by the Merrimac was the most effective. It struck 
the pilot-house of the Monitor opposite the peep-hole through which 
Worden at that moment was looking. It cut the iron plank in two, 
inflicted a severe wound on Worden, and knocked him senseless to the 
floor, Lieutenant Green, who commanded the guns, and Chief Engineer 
Steiners, who worked the turret, being at the same moment stunned and 
stupefied, but not severely injured. Green and Steiners recovered 



BUCHANAN AND WORDEN. 107 

quickly enough to keep the gunners at work; but Worden did not for 
some time recover consciousness. When he did so, his iirst question 
was, " Did we save the Alinnesota? " 

The battle was now ended. Tlie Merrimac steered at once for 
Norfolk. The Monitor soon afterwards steered for Fortress Monroe, the 
severe mishap which had befallen her commander preventing her from 
following up her victory and forcing the battle to a surrender. Worden 
was really badly injured. His face was much disfigured and he was 
completely blind. Removed to the city of Washington, his life for a 
time was despaired of; but he revived, and, being unwilling to retire, he 
rendered his country further good service before the war was ended. As 
soon as the Merrimac retired the Minnesota was got afloat by throwing 
some of her heavy guns overboard. She was saved. The battle which 
began as early as eight o'clock in the morning was waged with great 
ferocity until after mid-day. The little Monitor did noble work and won 
a most decided victory over a very formidable foe. 

THE LITTLE LION OF THE NAVY. 

She acquired a reputation such as was never before enjoyed by any 
ship of war. Pilgrimages were organized and undertaken to visit the 
scene of the conflict and the victory, and all ranks and classes of the 
people, from the President downward, rushed to see the "little wonder" 
— the strange vessel which had done such eff"ective work. The excite- 
ment was not confined to this country alone. The success of the 
Monitor created a profound interest throughout the civilized world, and 
nowhere more than in the British Isle. It was felt and confessed not 
only that sea-girt nations must in future depend for protection on other 
than wooden walls, but that a new and terrible engine of war had been 
constructed. The battle of Hampton Roads had read the world a 
lesson. 

In a masterly lyric, the scenes on board the Cumberland have been 
celebrated by the well-known poet, George H. Boker. We append his 
spirited production, which is a fine tribute to the valor of our Jack Tars. 



ins 



RUCHAN.W AND WORDEN. 



" St.ind to your guns, men!" Morris 
cried ; 

Small need to pass the word; 
Our men at quarters ranged themselves 

Before the drum was heard. 

And then began the sailors' jests : 
"What thing is that, I say ?" 

"A 'long-shore meeting-hi)U'<e adrift 
And standing down the l)a\- ?" 

"Sd shot your ijuns and point them 
straight : 

Hefore this day goes b\-, 
\Vt '11 tiy of what her nu-tal's made " 

A cliet-r was our reply. 

"Remember, boys, this flag of ours 

I las seldom left its place ; 
And where it falls, the deck it strikes 

Is covered with disgrace. 

"I ask but this ; or sink or swim, 

Or live or nobly die, 
My last sight upon earth may be 

To see that ensign fly ! " 

Meanwhile the shapeless iron mass 
Came moving o'er the wave. 

As gloomy as a passing heaise. 
As silent as the grave. 

Her ports were closed ; from stem to 
stern 
No sign of life appeared : 
We wondered, questioned, strained our 
eyes, 
JokccI — everything, but feared. 

She reached our range. Our broadside 
rang; 

Our heavy pivots roared ; 
And shot and shell, a fire of hell. 

Against her side we pomed. 



God's mercy ! from her sloping roof 

The iron tempest glanced, 
As hail bounds from a cottage-thatch, 

And round her lea[)ed and danced. 

On, on, with fast increasing speed, 

The silent monster came, 
Though all oni- starboard battery 

Was one long line of flame. 

She h'.eded not; no guns she fired; 

.Straight on our bows she bore; 
Through riving pl.ink and crashing frame 

Her fmious way slie tore. 

.•\las I our beautiful, keen bow, 

Tliat in the fiercest blast 
So gently foldeil back the seas, 

They hardly felt we passed. 

Alas I alas ! my Cumberland, 
That ne'er knew grief before, 

To be so gored, to feel so deep 
The tusk of that sea-boar. 

Once more she backward drew apace; 

Once mori; our side she rent, 
Then, in the wantonness of hate, 

Her broad -iJc through us sent. 

The dead and dying round us lay. 

But our foemen lay abeam ; 
Her open port-holes maddened us, 

We fired with shout and scream. 

We felt our vessel settling fast ; 

We knew our time was brief; 
"Ho ! man the pumps !" But they whc 
worked 

And fought not. wept with grief. 

From captain down to powder-bo)'. 

No hand was idle then: 
Two soldiers, but by chance aboar', 

FouLiht on like sailor men. 



BUCHANAN AND WORDEN. 



199 



And when a gun's crew lost a hand, 
Some bold marine stepped out, 

And jerked his braided jacket off, 
And hauled the gun about. 

Oiir forward magazine was drowned. 

And up from the sick bay 
Crawled out the wounded, red with blood, 

And round us gasping lay; — 

Yes, cheering, calling us by name. 
Struggling with failing breath 

Ti) keep their shipmates at the post 
Where glory strove with death. 

With decks afloat and powder gone, 

The last broadside we gave 
From the guns' heated iron lips 

Burst out beneath the wave. 

"Up to the spar deck ! save yourselves !" 
Cried Selfridge. "Up my men ! 

God grant that some of us may live 
To fight yon ship again ! " 

We turned: we did not like to go; 

Yet staying seemed but vain, 
Knee-deep in water; so we left; 

Some swore, some groaned with pain. 

We reached the deck. There Randall 
stood : 

"Another turn, men — so ! " 
Calmly he aimed his pivot gun : 

" Now, Tenny, let her go ! " 

It did our sore hearts good to hear 

The song our pivot sang, 
As rushing on from wave to wave 

The whirring bomb-shell sprang. 

Brave Randall lea[)ed upon the gun, 
And waved his cap in sport; 

•' Well done ! well aimed ! I saw that 
shell 
Go through an open port ! " 



It was our last, our deadliest shot ; 

The deck was overflown ; 
The poor ship staggered, lurched to 
port, 

And gave a living groan. 

Down, down, as headlong through the 
waves 

Our gallant vessel rushed; 
A thousand gurgling, watery .sounds 

Around my senses gushed. 

Then I remember little more ; 

One look to heaven I gave, 
Where, like an angel's wing, I saw 

Our spotless ensign wave. 

I tried to cheer. I cannot say 

Whether I swam or sank; 
A blue mist closed around my eyes, 

And everything was blank. 

When I awoke, a soldier lad, 

All dripping from the sea, 
With two great tears upon his cheeks. 

Was bending over me. 

I tried to speak. He understood 
Tiie wish I could not speak. 

He turned me. There, thank God ! 
the flag 
Still fluttered at the peak ! 

And there, while thread shall hang to 
thread, 

Oh, let that ensign fly ! 
The noblest constellation set 

Against the northern sky — 

A sign that vve who live may claim 

The peerage of the brave; 
A monuinent that needs no scroll, 

For those beneath the wave. 



miyymm,' 




^Sru 



If^ 







CHAPTER X. 

ADMIRAL DAVID G. FARRAGUT 

ERO OF NFW ORLEANS AND MOBILE BAY — EN- 
TRUSTED WITH A PRIZE VESSEL AT THE AGE OF 
TWELVE — MADE A NAVAL COMMANDER — BRIL- 
LIANT EXPLOITS AND SUPERB VICTORIES — HAND- 
SOME PRESENT FROM THE CITIZENS OF NEW YORK. 

In 1776, George Farragut, the father of the admiral, emigrated tc 
this country. He was born in Minorca in 1755, and traced his lineage 
through a long line of notable ancestors, back to Don Pedro Farragut, 
Avho was in the service of James I, King of Aragon. He took an active 
part in the Revolutionary War, and served the United States as "muster 
master of the militia of the District of Washington (East Tennessee), 
employed in actual service for the protection of the frontiers of the 
United States south of the Ohio, from the ist of March, 1792, to the 26tli 
of October, 1793." In 1810-11, he was sailing master of an expedition 
to the Bav of Pascagoula, and afterwards became magistrate at Pasca- 
goula. 

He had five childi-en — three sons and two daughters. Of the former, 
David G. Farragut, was born at Campbell's Station, near Knoxville, 
Tenn., on the 5th of July, 1801. From his earliest years, he was inured 
to hardships and dangers by land and sea. His first experience on the 
sea was extremel}^ distasteful to him ; but his father, by constantly tak- 
ing him out on the water in all sorts of weather, soon overcame his fears, 
and a strong attachment to the sailors life replaced his first feeling of 
distaste. When David was but a little over eight years of age, he was 
adopted by Commodore Porter who had formed a warm friendship for 
David's father, and was taken by the commodore to Washington, where 
he was put to school. 



ADMIRAL DAVID G. FARRAGUT. 



201 



During his stay at Wasliingtun, he aroused the frieudly interest of 
Paul Hamilton, Secretary of the Nav}', who assiired him that on the 
completion of his tenth year, he should receive a midshipman's warrant. 




ADMIRAL DAVID G. FARRAGUT. 

The boy then attended school at Chester, Pa., and on the 17th of December, 
1810 — several months before the promised time — he received the appoint- 
ment in the navy, and served in the following summer under Commodore 
Porter, who commanded the Essex. David accompanied Porter on his 



202 



ADMIRAL IJAVII) G. FARRAGUT. 



cruise to the West Indies in 1S12, and throughout the war of that year 
displayed a precocity that was remarkable. 

He was but twelve years of age, but was entrusted with one of tlie 
prize vessels captured b}- Coinniodore Porter ; and it is related of the 
3'oung prize master, that when the captain of tbe captured vessel flew 
into a fury at his diminutive captor's orders, and rushed below to load 
up his pistols, David, with a coolness of an old seaman, took complete 
command of the crew, issued his orders promptly, and informed the 

captain that if he came on deck with his 
pistols he would be thrown overboard. 
He took part in the bloody battle between 
the Essex and the Plicebe and Cherub, 
where he performed the duties of captain's 
aide, quarter-gunner, powder boy, and in 
fact everything that was required of him, 
as he states iu his journal. 

On his return after the war, he 
again attended school at Chester, Pa. 
He sailed to the Mediterranean in 1S15 
under Captain William M. Crane in the 
Independence, again in 1816 on the 
Macedonian, and a third time in 1817^ 
on which occasion he made a very extensive cruise, spending nine 
months with the United States Consul at Tunis, studying languages 
and mathematics. He made still another cruise in the Mediterranean 
in 1819, this time as acting lieutenant on the Shark, and in the 
following }-ear sailed home to pass his examination. In Ma}-, 1S22, 
he was appointed to the sloop-of-war John Adams, carrying the United 
States repi'esentatives to Mexico and Guatemala, and upon his return 
joined the schooner Greyhound, of Commodore Porter's fleet, and assisted 
in tlie expedition against the freebooters of the West Indies. 

He was subsequently made executive of&cer of the flagship Seagull 
of the same fleet, and remained iu that position during a cruise amongst 




ADMIRAL DAVID G. FARRAGUT. 203 

the riffs of the Gulf. In the year 1823, ^^^ '^^as married to Miss Susan 
C. Marchant, and in July of that 3'ear was ordered to the command of the 
Ferret, but during his voyage contracted the yellow fever and was taken 
to Washington, where he was placed in the hospital until his recovery. 
He received the commission of lieutenant and was assigned to the 
Brand}' wine in 1825, on which vessel he again cruised in the Mediter- 
ranean, returning home in May 1S26. From then until 1828, he re- 
mained at Norfolk, Va., with the exception of the first four months after 
his return, which were spent attending lectures at Yale College. Dur- 
ing the next ten 3'eurs, he was in command of various vessels, cruising 
chiefly about the northern coasts of South America and in the Gulf; and 
at the end of that time, he spent two years at home, taking care of his 
invalid wife, who died in 1840; serving on coui^t-martial, and learning 
the trade of carpenter. From 1841-43, he was again cruising in South 
American waters, and in December of the latter year he married Miss 
Virginia Loyall, a very superior woman in character and cultivation. 

COMMANDER IN THE MEXICAN WAR. 

During the Mexican War, he obtained command of the Saratoga, 
and sailed to Vera Cruz with the purpose of capturing the castle of San 
Juan d'Ulloa, but found on his arrival that the castle had just sur- 
rendered to the land forces. On his return in 1848, he was appointed to 
the Norfolk Navy Yard, and in 1850 was engaged at Washington in com- 
piling a book of ordnance regulations for the navy — a work which 
occupied him about a year and a half, at the end of which he returned 
to Norfolk. 

From 1S54 until 1858, he was establishing a navy yard on Mare 
Island, in the bay of San Francisco ; and in July, 1858, he commanded 
the Brooklyn, conveying the United States Minister R. M. McLane to 
Vera Cruz, Mexico. During the latter part of i860 and the beginning 
of 1861, Farragut was at Norfolk; but, as the symptoms of war grew 
more pronounced, he was notified that his free expression of Northern 
sentiments was distasteful. He therefore moved to Baltimore with his 



201 ADMIRAL DAVID G. FARRAGUT. 

faniil}-, and later to Hastiiigs-on-the-Hudson, where he remained nearly 
a jear. 

In December, iS6i, he was snddenly ordered to Washington to join 
an expedition against New Orleans, and was placed in command of the 
isttam sloop-of-war Hartford. His orders were "to collect snch vessels 
as can be spared from the blockade, and proceed up the Mississippi River 
and reduce the defenses which guard the approaches to New Orleans, 
when you will appear off that city and take possession of it under the 
guns of your sqitadi-on." In the expedition an army of 15,000 men, 
commanded by General Benjamin F. Butler, constituted the land force, 
Farragut's fleet consisted of "six sloops-of-war, sixteen gunboats, 
twenty-one mortar schooners and five other vessels — carrying in all over 

200 guns. 

MASTER OF DETAILS OF SEAMANSHIP. 

From the iSth of April the advance began. Farragut was a perfect 
master of all the details of seamship, and it was with extreme caution at 
ever\^ step, and with the exercise of the most consummate skill and 
bravery, that he successfully passed the Confederate obstructions — com- 
pletely destroying the Confederate fleet sailing close to the forts (Jackson 
and St. Philip) on either bank of the river and silencing their guns b}' 
sweeping broadsides, until at length, on the 25th of April, the City of 
New Orleans was at his mercy — he having lost during the expedition 
37 meu and one vessel. The forts surrendered to Commodore Porter on 
April 28. It was Farragut's wish immediately afterwards to capture 
Mobile, but he was retained in the Mississippi for the purpose of effect- 
ing an opening throughout the whole length of the river. On July 16, 
he received the commission of rear-admiral. 

In the spring of 1S63, he assisted General N. P. Banks in the siege 
of Port Hudson, blockading the mouth of the Red River and remaining 
there until the surrender of Port Hudson on July 8. He then sailed to 
New York in the Hartford, and was received at that place with great 
public enthusiasm. His vessel was found, on examination, to have 
received 240 shots during her service of the past nineteen months. 



ADMIRAL DAVID G. FARRAGUT. 



205 



In 1864, he was again at the Gulf, awaiting an opportunity for an 
attack on Mo- 
bile. Later he 
was reinforced 
by several 
iron-clads and 
troops under 
General Gor- 
don Granger. 
On August 
5tli the attack 
began, and 
was conduct- 
ed with even 
greater care 
than the ad- 
vance on New 
Orleans. It 
was F a r r a - 
gut's habit to 
issue the most 
minute iii- 
t r u c t i o n s to 
cover ever}' 
possible con- 
tingency, and 
in this en- 
gagement he 
surveyed the 
whole field of 
action from a 

position in the map showinc; city of mobile and its defences. 

port main rigging of the Hartford, which led the fleet into the bay 




206 ADMIRAL DAVID G. FARRAGUT. 

Tlic ConfL-derate flt-et was compelled to surrender after a terrible loss of 

life on both sides. 

The National fleet lost 335 men, tlie Confederate fleet losing only a 
few, niauy more having been killed in the forts ; 280 Confederate pris- 
oners weie taken, and a few days later the forts surrendered. At the 
close of this bloody fight the quartermaster said that the admiral came 
on deck at the time that the bodies of the killed were laid out, and, he 
adds, "It was the only time I ever saw the old gentleman crj^ ; but tears 
came in his eyes like a little child." 

SPLENDID PUBLIC RECEPTION. 

Farragut's health gave way in November, and, returning home, he 
reached New York on December 12, where another public reception was 
given him, and he was presented with a purse of $50,000 to purchase a 
New York home. On July 6, 1865, he was tendered a complimentar}' 
dinner by the Union Club of Boston, on which occasion Oliver Wendell 
Holmes read a poem composed in honor of the admiral. 

In July of the following year Congress created the grade of admiral 
and assigned it to Farragut, who assumed command of the Franklin 
and cruised for some time in European -waters, during which he visited 
Alinorca, the home of his ancestors. He returned and visited California 
in 1869. The following summer he spent at the house of Rear-admiral 
Pennock, in Portsmouth, N. H. One da}^ he stepped aboard a dismantled 
sloop-of-war in the harbor, and, after a short visit, almost pathetic in its 
suggestion of former da3-s, he went on shore, remarking sadlj-: " That is 
the last time I shall ever tread the deck of a man-of-war." His words 
proved prophetic indeed; for on August 14, 1870, his spirit passed away. I 

Farragut was a skilled audheroic commander, a thorough and cultured 
scholar, and a Christian man whose character was notably honest and 
pure. We append the last lines of the tribute of Dr. Holmes : 
" I give the name that fits him best — 

Ay, better than his own — 
The Sea-king of the Sovereign West, 
Who made liis mast a throne." 




COMMANDER \\M. B. GUSHING. 

HERO OF A DARING DEED — DESTRUCTION 
OF THE IRONCLAD ALBEMARLE — IN THE 
JAWS OF DEATH — WORLD-RENOWNED AT 
THE AGE OF THIRTY — AN UNRIVALLED 
CAREER IN THE NAVAL SERVICE. 

"No man in our navy," says J. T. 
Headley, " at his age has ever won so brilliant a reputation." This 
was said of Commander William B. Gushing, a brave naval officer, born 
in Wisconsin, about 1842. 

During our Civil War the sounds and waters of North Carolina 
were early the scenes of important enterprises by the combined army 
and navy of the United States. The Hatteras forts, Roanoke Island, 
Newberne, Plymouth and other places were early captured, some of them 
after regular actions. A position was gained from which the important 
inland communication was threatened, which was vital to the Confed- 
eracy, while the commerce of the sound was, for the time being, entirely 
destroj'ed. It was important for them to regain what they had lost, and 
to this end the}? put forth every effort. Among other means the}' com- 
menced and hastened to completion a formidable ironclad vessel. 

In June, 1863, Lieutenant-Commander C. W. Flusser, an excellent 
and throughly reliable officer, had reported that a battery was building 
at Edward's Ferry, near Weldon, on the Roanoke River, to be cased with 
pine sills, fourteen inches square, and plated with railroad iron. The 
slanting roof was to be made of five inches of pine, five inches of oak, 
and railroad iron over that. 

Unfortunately, the light draught iron-clads, which would have been 

207 



208 



commandp:r willia.m is. gushing. 



on hand to meet this vessel, turned out failures, and tlie light woodeii 
gun-boats and " double enders " employed in the sounds had toencouuter 
her. She was accompanied by a ram, which the Union fleet had no 
vessel fit to meet. In April, 1864, the Albemarle being completed, the 
Confederates were i-eady to carry out their plan of attack, which was the 
first to recapture Plymouth, by the assistance of the ram, and then 




IRON-CLAD GUNBOAT. 

send her into Albemarle Sound to capture or disperse our fleet. A force 
of ten thousand men, which they had collected, made an advance and 
gained possession of the town. 

Lieutenant-Commander Flusser was- then at Plymouth with four 
vessels, the Miami, "a double ender," and three ferry-boats, armed 
with nine-inch guns, and exceedingly frail in structure, called the South- 
field, Ceres and Whitehead. At half-past nine, on the evening of April 
i8th. he wrote to Admiral Lee that there had been fighting there' al^ 



COMMANDER WILLIAM B. GUSHING. 209 

day, and he feared the eueiu}' had had the best of it. " The ram will be 
down to-night or to-morrow. I shall have to abandon my plan of fighting 
the ram lashed to the Southfield. I think I have force enough to whip 
the ram, but not sufficient to assist in holding the town, as I should 
like." Six hours after writing this, Flusser lay dead upon the deck of 
his ship. Very early on the morning of the 19th of x\pril the White- 
head, which had been stationed up the river, reported that the ram was 
coming down and evidentl}' meant business. 

EAGER TO JOIN IN BATTLE. 

The Whitehead was in a critical position when she discovered the 
ram, for she was between her and a southern battery. Some obstruc- 
tions had been placed to stop the Albemarle, but she passed them easily. 
A narrow passage or " thoroughfare " led down to Plymouth beside the 
main channel, and the Whitehead managed to run into this, uuperceived 
by the ram, and so got down ahead of the Confederate vessel, which did 
not attack until half-past three in the morning. When the ironclad was 
seen coming down, the Miami and Southfield were lashed together, and 
Flusser, from the Miami, ordered them to meet her at full speed. 

The Albemarle came on silently, with closed ports, and struck the 
Miami a glancing bb^v on her port bow, doing some damage but causing 
no leak. She then crushed the side of the Southfield, so that she at 
once began to sink. As she passed between the two vessels, the forward 
lashings parted and the Miami swung around. The after lashings were 
cut, and, after a number of the Southfield's men had succeeded in reach- 
ing the Miami that vessel steamed off down the river, leaving her 
consort to sink. The officer left in command by Flussers death thus 
speaks of this unfortuate affair: 

" As soon as the battery could be brought to bear upon the ram, 

both steamers, the Southfield and Miami, commenced firing solid shot 

from the one-hundred-pound Parrot rifles and eleven-inch Dahlgren guns, 

they making no perceptible indentations in her armor. Commander 

Flusser fired the first three shots from the Miami personally, the third 
14 



•210 COMMANDICR WILLIAM B. GUSHING. 

being a ten-second Dahlgren shell, eleven-inch. It was directl}^ after 
that fire that he was killed by pieces of shell ; several of the gnnboat's 
crew were wounded at the same time. 

"Our bow hawser being stranded, the Miami then swung round to 
starboard, giving the ram a chance to pierce us. Necessity then required 
the engine to be reversed in motion, to straighten the vessel in the 
river, to prevent going on the bank of the river, and to bring the rifle- 
gun to bear upon the ram. During the time of straightening the 
steamer the ram had also straightened, and was making for us. From 
the fatal effects of her prow upon the Southfield, and of our sustaining 
injur}-, I deemed it useless to sacrifice the Miami in the same wa}'." 

The gunboats being driven off, the Confederates captured Ph'mouth 
on April 20th. As it was expected that the Albemarle would at once 
enter the Sound, and attack the squadron there, all possible preparations 
were made to meet her and give her a warm reception. 

DIRECTIONS GIVEN FOR THE COMBAT. 

Four of the squadron were "double enders," the Miami, Matta- 
besett, Sassacus and Wyalusing. The smaller vessels were the Ceres, 
Commodore Hull, Sevmour and Whitehead. Thev were all armed with 
9-inch guns and 100-pound rifles. The senior officer in the sounds. Cap- 
tain M. Smith, ordered the large vessels to pass as close as possible to 
the ram, delivering their fire, and rounding to immediatelv for a second 
discharge. He also suggested the vulnerable points of the ram, and 
recommended that an endeavor be made to foul her propeller, if possible. 

He also directed, among other things, that a blow of the ram should 
be received as near the stern as possible, and the vessel rammed was to 
go ahead fast, to prevent her from withdrawing it, while the others 
attacked the propeller. If armed launches accompanied the ram the}' 
were to be met by the smaller vessels, with shrapnel, when approaching, 
and hand grenades when near. He leaves the question of ramming to 
each commander, on account of the peculiar construction of the " double- 
enders." 



commandf:r william b. gushing. 211 

Small steamers were placed on picket, at the moutli of the Roanoke, 
and on the 5th of May the ram made its appearance, and chased the 
picket boats in. Signals were made, and the vessels got under way, and 
stood np to engage the ironclad. The Albemarle was accompanied by a 
small steamer which she had captnred not long before. At abont half- 
past fonr in the afternoon the Albemarle opened the battle by a shot 
which destroyed a boat and wounded several men on board the Mattabe- 
sett. The second shot damaged the same vessel's rigging. By this time 
the Mattabesett was very near the little steamer, which immediately 
surrendered. 

The Mattabesett then gave the ram a broadside, at about one hun- 
dred and fift\' ^-ards, then rounded to under her stern, aiul came up on 
the other side. Her shot either broke, or glanced off the ram's armor, 
without any effect. She had the muzzle knocked off of one of her two 
guns, by a shot from the ram, but continued to use it during the 
remainder of the action. The Sassacus came gallantly on, in like manner, 
delivering her fire at the Albemarle. The latter then attempted to ram 
the Sassacus, but the latter crossed her bows, by superior speed. 

SHOT THAT WENT CLEAR THROUGH. 

At this time the ram liad partially turned, and exposed her side to 
the Sassacus, when the wooden double-ender rushed at her, under full 
steam, in hope of either crushing in her side, or of bearing her 
down until she should sink. The Sassacus struck the ironclad fairl}^, 
and received, at the same moment, a lOO-pounder rifle shot, which went 
through and through her. She struck the Albemarle a heavy blow, 
careening her, and bearing her down till the water washed across her 
deck. 

The Sassacus kept her engines going, in the attempt to push the ram 
down, while many efforts were made to throw hand grenades down her 
deck hatch, and powder down her smoke stack, but without success, as 
there was a cap upon the stack. 

Soon the ram swung round, and as soon as her guns would bear 



212 COMMANDER WILLIAM B. GUSHING. 

another lOO-pound rifle shot went through the side of the Sassacus, 
through her coal bunker, and crashed into her starboard boiler. 
Instantly the whole ship was filled with steam, which scalded and suffo- 
cated her crew. All her firemen were scalded, and one was killed; 
and twenty-one men were instantl}^ placed hors de combat. She was 
forced to withdraw from action. 

The other gunboats continued the fight, and the Miami endeavored 
to explode against the ram a torpedo which she carried. But the Albe- 
marle was skilfully handled, and succeeded, each time, in avoiding the 
l)low. Two of the other gunboats endeavored to foul the propeller of the 
ram by laying out seiner in her track. Although the nets seemed all about 
her, she escaped them. An observer from the shore has likened this 
curious scene to a number of wasps attacking a large horny beetle. In 
fine, the Albemarle pi'oved invulnerable to the guns of the gunboats, 
even when discharged almost in contact with her sides. 

CAME OFF BEST IN DESPERATE ENCOUNTER. 

Tlie action lasted for three hours, or until night came on. Every- 
thing that brave men could do to destro\' the enemj^ it was their duty to 
encounter, was done by the gunboats, but the ironclad went back to 
Plymouth without serious damage, and without the loss of a man, after 
being the target, at short range, for more than two hundred shot from 
ii-inch and 9-inch guns, and more than one hundred shot from 100- 
pounder rifles. 

The gunboats, other than the Sassacus, were very much damaged, 
and it was plain that they were unfit to meet the Albemarle, however 
ably handled or gallantly fought. The ram came out again on the 24th 
of May, but did not enter the Sound, apparently fearing torpedoes. The 
next day a party left the Wyalusing in a boat, with two torpedoes, to 
endeavor to destroy the Albemarle, as she la}' at Pl3'moutl!. 

They carried the torpedoes across the swamps on a stretcher, and then 
two of the party swam across the river with a line, and hauled the tor- 
pedoes over to the Plymouth shore. These were then connected b}' a bridle, 



COMMANDER WILLIAM B. GUSHING. 'M'6 

so that the\' should float down aud strike on each side of the ram's bows. 
Unfortunately, they were discovered, and the plan failed. 

Lines of torpedoes were then placed at the mouth of the Roanoke, 
to destroy the ram if she should come down again, and as this proceed- 
ing could not be kept secret, the ironclad did not again venture down. 
She lay quietl}^ at Plymouth until the latter part of October, a constant 
threat to our fleet in the sounds, and preventing any attempt to recapture 
the town. She was very securely moored to a wharf, and a guard of 
soldiers was placed on board, in addition to her crew. 

MONSTER ANCHORED AND GUARDED. 

Every night fires were made on shore, to prevent the approach of an 
enemy unseen. More than this, she was surrounded by large logs, 
moored some thirtj' feet from her hull, all round, to keep off any boat 
which might approach with a torpedo. From the mouth of the Roanoke 
to where the Albemarle la};- is abmit eight miles, aud the stream there 
about two hundred yards wide. 

The banks were well picketed by the enem}-. About a mile below 
Plymouth was the sunken wreck of the Southfield, aud about her were 
some schooners, which also formed a picket station in mid-stream. It 
seemed impossible for a boat to get up the river and not be discovered, 
and yet Lieutenant William B. Gushing, of the United States Navy, not 
only undertook to do so, but succeeded in destroying this fin-midable craft, 
"the terror of the sounds." 

Admiral Ammeu, of the Navy, has given a capital sketch of Gushing, 
in the "United Service Magazine," from which we shall borrow freely: 

"William B. Gushing was born in Wisconsin, in November, 1842, 
and entered the Naval Academy in 1857, but resigned in ALarch, 1861, 
entering the naval service afloat, as an Acting Master's Mate. His dis- 
position and temperament would not permit him to remain at a naval 
school in time of war, as he would not have been able to give a single 
thought to theoretical study. 

"In October, 1S61, he was restored to his rank as Midshipman, and 



214 C01\rMANDER WILLIAM B. GUSHING. 

on the 161I1 of Jiilv following he was, with many other young officers, 
made a Lieiitcuaiil, owing to the exigencies of the service growing out 
of the civil war. Henceforth, for nearly three years, his career was sin- 
gularly conspicuons in deeds of daring, in a service where a lack of 
gallantry would have brought disgrace. It is plain, therefore, that it 
was the sagacity of his plans and his boldness in carrying them out tli; 
distinguished him. 

" At the close of the war he was barely twenty-two and a half years 
of age, rather slightly built, about five feet in height, and boyish looking. 
He had large gray eyes, a prominent aquiline nose, yellowish hair, worn 
quite long, and withal, a rather grave expression of countenance. When 
speaking, his face would light up with a bright and playful smile. A 
comrade likened his springy, elastic step, high cheek bones and general 
physiognomy to that of an Indian. The first impression of a stranger 
who heard him speak, either of what he had d(Mie or hoped to do, would 
be that he was a boaster — but with tl'.ose who knew him best there was 
no such idea ; his form of speech was a mere expression, frankly uttered, 
of what he had done, or what he intended to do." 

A SIMPLE AND UNASSUMING MANNER. 

TIk- foregoing is Admiral Ammen's estimate of the man. To some 
of it the writer must dissent. He accompanied Gushing on a short jour- 
ney soon after the Albemarle affair, while the country was still ringing 
with his brilliant exploit, and when steamboats, railroads and hotels wei'e 
refusing to accept an\^ mone}^ from either him or his chance companions; 
and all .sorts and conditions of men were being introduced to him, to have 
the honor of shaking his hand ; and yet a more simple, boy-like, unas- 
suming manner no one placed in such a position ever had. 

He early received command of a small steamer, engaged in block- 
ading, and would make expeditions in the inland waters in his boat, 
sometimes lying concealed all day, but always having some definite ob- 
ject commensurate with the risks involved. He more than once obtained 
important information in this way. 



COMMANDER WILLIAM B. GUSHING. 215 

Not only did lie have frequent engagements in his little vessel with 
field batteries of the enemy, but was successful in destroying schooners 
with supplies, saltworks and other things which tended to cripple his 
enemy. 

In the winter of 1864, when blockading the Cape Fear River, Gush- 
ing determined to pay a visit to Smithville in a boat, with only six men. 
In entering the river, he had to pass Fort Caswell, and at Smithville, 
two miles above, he knew there was a battery of five guns, and a consid- 
erable garrison. About eleven o'clock at night he landed, one hundred 
yards above the battery, came into the village, and into a large house with 
I piazza, which was the headquarters of General Hebert. 

BOLD ATTEMPT TO CAPTURE A GENERAL. 

A major and captain of the general's staff were about going to bed, 
itt a room on the piazza, when, hearing footsteps, and supposing his 
servant was there, the major threw up a window, and a navj^ revolver was 
at once thrust in his face, with a demand for surrender. He pushed the 
pistol aside, and escaped through the back door, calling to his compan- 
ion to follow as the enemy were upon them. The latter failed to under- 
stand and was taken prisoner by Gushing and carried off. He pushed off 
down the river, knowing that an immediate alarm would be given. It 
was a beautiful moonlight night, but Gushing escaped unharmed. 

This audacious effort to capture General Hebert was characteristic 
of Gushing, and was only frustrated by the fact that the general happened 
to spend the night in Wilmington instead of his own quarters. 

At the capture of Newbern, Gushing distinguished himself iu com- 
mand of a battery of navy howitzers. In landing in the marsh, Gushing 
had lost his shoes, and, while pressing on, he encountered the servant of 
a Captain Johnson, of the arm3^ who had a pair of spare boots slung over 
his shoulder. Gushing asked who was the owner of the boots, and 
said: "Tell the captain that Lieutenant Gushing, of the Navy, was bare- 
footed, and has borrowed them for the day," and then put on the boots 
in haste, and pursued his way to the fight. 



216 COMMANDER WILLIAM B. GUSHING. 

Ill the destruction of the Albemarle we see Cushing in another, and 
a trill}' heroic light. The newspaper correspondents had managed to 
make his task as difficult as possible, for they had, for several weeks, 
apprised the public, and of course the enemy, that Cushing was on his waj 
from the North with a torpedo boat, to blow up the Albemarle. No method 
could have been taken to render the enemy more watchful, and the 
destruction of the ironclad impossible. 

We have already spoken of the "cordon" of logs enclosing her as 
in a pen ; the extra guards and fires, the howitzers ready loaded, and the 
pickets down the river. The enemy was very vigilant, and Cushing's 
approach was discovered. Yet we find him perfectly cool amidst a heavy 
fire from small arms and howitzers, standing forward in his launch, 
pushing his way at full speed over the logs, and only intent upon lower- 
ing his torpedo and striking the enemy's vessel at the proper time. He 
did this most effectually, but, at the ver}?- moment of doing so, a shell 
from one of the heavy guns of the Albemarle struck the torpedo boat, 
and she went down, swamped by the column of water and spray which 
rose high in the air when the torpedo exploded. 

CUSHING'S REPORT OF HIS FAMOUS EXPLOIT. 

Nothing could be more graphic or characteristic than Cushing's 
report of the affair, as follows ; 

"Albemarle Sound, N. C, 

"October 30, 1864. 

" Sir : — I have the honor to report that the ironclad Albemarle is 
at the bottom of the Roanoke River. On the night of the 27th, having 
prepared my steam launch, I proceeded up towards Plymouth with thir- 
teen officers and men, partly volunteers from the squadron. The dis- 
tance from the mouth of the river to the ram was about eight miles, the 
stream averaging in width some two hundred yards, and lined with the 
enemy's pickets. 

"A mile below the town was the wreck of the Southfield, surrounded 
by some schooners, and it was understood that a gun was mounted there 
to command the bend. I therefore took one of the Shamrock's cutters 



COMMANDER WILLIAM B. GUSHING. 217 

in tow, with orders to cast off and board at that point, if we were 
hailed. 

" Our boat succeeded in passing the pickets, and even the Southfield, 
within twenty yards, without discover}^, and we were not hailed until by 
the lookouts on the ram. The cutter was then cast off, and ordered 
below, while we made for our enemy under a full head of steam. The 
Confederates sprung their rattle, rang the bell, and commenced firing, 
at the same time repeating their hail, and seeming much confused. 

" The light of a fire ashore showed me the ironclad made fast to 
the wharf, with a pen of logs around her, about thirty feet from her side. 

"Passing her closely, we made a complete circle, so as to strike her 
fairly, and went into her, bows on. By this time the enemy's fire was 
very severe, but a dose of canister, at short range, served to moderate 
their zeal and disturb their aim, much to our advantage. 

AIR THICK WITH BULLETS. 

" Paymaster Swan, of the Otsego, was wounded near me, but hoAV 
many more I know not. Three bullets struck my clothing, and the air 
seemed full of them. In a moment we had struck the logs just abreast 
of the quarter port, breasting them in some feet, and our bows resting 
on them. The torpedo boom was then lowered, and by a vigorous pull 
I succeeded in diving the torpedo under the overhang and exploding it 
at the same time that the Albemarle's gun was fired. A shot seemed to 
go crashing through my boat, and a dense mass of water rushed in from 
the torpedo, filling the launch, and completely disabling her. 

" The enemy then continued his fire at fifteen feet short range, and 
demanded our surrender, which I twice refused, ordering the men to 
save themselves, and, removing my own coat and shoes, springing into 
the river, I swam with others into the middle of the stream, the Con- 
federates failing to hit tis. The most of our party were captured, some 
were drowned, and only one escaped besides myself, and he in another 
direction. Acting ]\Iaster's Mate Woodman, of the Commodore Hull, 
I met in the water half a mile below the town, and assisted him as best 
I could, but failed to get him ashore. 

"Completely exhausted, I managed to reach the shore, but was too 
weak to crawd out of the water until just at daylight, when I managed 
to creep into the swamp close to the fort. While hiding, a few feet from 



21 S COMMANDER WILLIAM B. GUSHING. 

the path, two of the Albemarle's officers imssed, and I judged, from 
their conversation, that the ship was destroj^ed. 

"Some hours' travelling in the swamp served to bring me out well 
below the town, when I sent a negro in to gain information, and found 
that the ram was truly sunk. Proceeding to another swamp I came to 
a creek, and captured a skiff belonging to a picket of the enemy, and 
with this, by eleven o'clock the next night, had made my way out to the 
Valley City. 

CONSPICUOUS BRAVERY OF A NAVAL OFFICER. 

" Acting Master's Mate William L. Howarth, of the IMcuticello, 
showed, as usual, conspicuous braverj-. He is the same jfficer who has 
been with me twice in Wilmington harbor. I trust he may be promoted 
when exchanged, as well as Acting Third Assistant Engineer Stotes- 
bury, who, being for the first time under fire, handled his engine 
promptly and with coolness. 

" All the officers and men behaved in the most gallant manner. I 
will furnish their names to the Department as soon as they can be 
procured. 

" The cutter of the Shamrock boarded the Southfield, but found no 
gun. Four prisoners were taken there. The ram is now completely 
submerged, and the enemy have sunk three schooners in the river to 
obstruct the passage of our shijjs. I desire to call the attention of the 
Admiral and Department to the spirit manifested by the sailors on the 
ships in these sounds. But few men were wanted, but all hands were 
eager to go iuto action, many offering their chosen shipmates a month's 
pa}- to resign in their favor. 

" I am, sir, very respectfully, your obedient servant, 

"W. B. Gushing, 

" Lieutenant, U. S. N." 
" Rear-Admiral D. D. Porter, 

"Commanding N. A. Squadron : 

" The name of the man who escaped is William Hoftman, seaman 
on the Chicopee. He did his duty well, and deserves a medal of 
honor, 

" Respectfulh", 

"W. B. CrsHiNG, U.S. N." 



COMMANDER WILLIAM B. CUSHING. 219 

dishing, for this daring piece of service, was himself advanced to 
the rank of lieutenant-commander. 

Such men are never mere imitators, and his unvarying success in 
whatever he undertook was due to his clever planning and admirable 
execution. Attempts by those of inferior qualities in such respects would 
end in their capture or death. 

PROMOTED FOR HIS GALLANT CONDUCT, 

After the close of the war he was for some two3'ears executive officer 
of the Lancaster, a position which required close attention and study to 
fulfill its duties in the best manner. 

Afterwards he served three 3^ears in command of the Maumee, on the 
Asiatic station. He was promoted, in the regular order of vacancies, to 
commander, January 31, 1S72, and soon after was ordered to the com- 
mand of the Wyoming, on the home station, and was relieved at the end 
of a year, the vessel being put out of commission. 

In the spring of 1874 he was ordered to the Washington Nav}^ Yard, 
and the following August was detached at his own request. He then 
seemed in impaired health and expressed a desire to go South ; after the 
lapse of a few daj-s he showed signs of insanit^^, and was removed to the 
Government Hospital, where he died, December 17, 1874, at the age of 
thirty-two years and thirteen days. 

His becoming insane was a great regret and surprise to his many 
friends and admirers, in and out of the naval service ; it was, however, a 
consolation for them to know that it was not the result of bad habits or 
of causes within his control. His misfortune, and that of the naval ser- 
vice to which he belonged, was seemingly a lack of rigid early training, 
necessary to healthful thought in ordinary times, and to a continued 
development of those points in naval education which are so useful in 
peace and so essential to success in the higher grades. 

There are few Cushings in the histories of navies ; they can have no 
successful imitators ; they pass away, as it were, before they reach their 
destined goal, regretted and admired. 



^/rr\A 





CHAPTER XII. 

ADMIRAL GEORGE DEWEY. 

HERO OF MANILA — INCIDENTS OF HIS EARLY LIFE- 
TRAINING UNDER FARRAGUT — GREAT VICTORY 
OVER THE SPANISH FLEET — MAGNIFICENT WEL- 
COME ON HIS RETURN FROM THE PHILIPPINES. 



On May ist, 1898, our country was thrilled by the news of a great 
naval victory over the Spanish fleet in Manila harbor. The commander 
of our Asiati^ squadron received orders to destroy or capture the 
Spanish ships. How triumphantly he performed his task is known to 
the whole world. 

Personal interest, of a x^try pronouuced and specially gratifying 
kind, naturally centred in the hero of this signally successful expedi- 
tion. Its leader was Commodore George Dewey, commanding the 
United States Asiatic squaarou (flagship, the protected cruiser Olj'-mpia 
— Captain C. Y. Gridley). Commodore Dewe}' comes of the best New- 
England stock. His father was Dr. Julius Y. Dewey, of Montpelier, 
Vermont, a man held in high esteem in the community in which he 
dwelt. The Deweys, indeed, are the leading people of their native town, 
and few public movements affecting the welfare of the village are under- 
taken without consulting the family. George Dewey was born at Mont- 
pelier, Vt, December 26, 1837. 

For a time he attended the public school in the village, after which 
he took a preparatory course in the military school at Northfield, in his 
native State. At this period he formed the determination to enter the 
United States Navy, but the design did not at first meet the approval of 
his father. The latter, indeed, endeavored to dissuade the lad from his 

22(1 



ADMIRAL GEORGE DEWEY. 2'2i 

purpose, for tlie elder Dewey had no liking for tlie roving and uncertain 
life of a sailor, and deemed the influences of a seafaring career unsuited 
to the higher development of his son's character. He desired the youth 
to take up a profession, and to be content with such a career as he might 
achieve by the stead}' pursuit of some home vocation. The sou's 
wishes finally prevailed, however, and his father procured his admis- 
sion to the naval academy at Annapolis, which he entered at the age 
cf seventeen. 

By the older people of Moutpelier, George Dewey is remembered as 
a bright but reckless, harum-scarum lad. There was nothing too hazard- 
ous for him to undertake. While a pupil at the district school of Mont- 
pelier, j'oung Dewey was mixed up in a schoolboy's plot which earned 
him a good thrashing, which he probably remembers to this da}'. The 
flogging Avas administered by Major Pangborn, the village dominie, for- 
merly editor of the Jersey City Journal. Prior to the coming of Major 
Pangborn as head of the school, the boys had coerced several masters. '• 

DECIDED TO MASTER NEW TEACHER. 

Soon after the new incumbent was installed it was decided by the 
boys that his mettle should be tried. Young Dewey was chosen by his 
comrades to make the test. By misplaced confidence, or by the treachery 
of some one engaged in the plot, the Major heard of it, atid Dewey was 
called from his seat one day during a session of the school. He, how- 
ever, refused to respond to the call, and the other boys chuckled and 
awaited events. They had not loug to wait, for Master Pangborn walked 
quietly down to where Dewey was seated, and, with the grasp of a Her- 
cules, took the lad by the collar, and, lifting him from his seat, marched 
him up to the master's desk. At this dread tribunal he was accused of 
being the leader in the plot, and was interrogated as to his accomplices. 
He however refused to divulge their names, and was also secretive in 
regard to his own plans. The dominie, thereupon, administered a sound 
thrashing, after which, so the story goes, young Dewey was escorted 
home, where he was put to bed and kept there for several davs as a 




I. YOUNG DEWEY IN THE APPTP tptttt „ ^^ 

GIVING A THPATPrnAT r ^^^ " D^WEY AND HIS SISTER 

FiS-r VOYA< E T r»^-.'^''■''^^''^'''•''^^^ ^^ "^^E BARN. ,. HIS 
.22 ^'OYA(.E. i. CHASTISED BY HIS SCHOOLMASTER. 



ADMIRAL GEORGE DEWEY. 223 

further pimisliment and atouement. The episode serves to illustrate 
the quality of courage and determination in the lad, inasmuch as the 
rigor and severity of the punishment for misdemeanors in the district 
schools of those days were no light things to brave. 

It denoted a rather rare quality in a 3-outh to undertake, as Dewev 
undertook, the leadership of such a plot, and the lad bore an enviable 
record for such enterprises in his 3'outh among his schoolmates and 
friends. He was, however, too big-heai'ted to harbor resentment against 
the schoolmaster, and afterwards, it is related, there grew up between 
pupil and pedagogue the most friendly feeling and attachment. 

ANECDOTES OF YOUNG DEWEY. 

It is related that the first time Major Pangborn saw young Dewey 
he was in an apple tree bent as usual on mischief. x'Vnother stor}- told of 
him relates to his having gotten up a theatrical performance in the barn, 
with his sister as the star performer. On one occasion she was ill and 
forgot her part. '' Make it up then as you go along," said the young show- 
man, "the performance must go on." Still another story is told of his 
venturesome passage with a horse and wagon across a deep creek, when 
his clothing was well soaked and he came near drowning. These 
anecdotes show the spirited nature of the bov. 

Four years after entering the naval academy at Annapolis, the 
future admiral was graduated in tlie class of 185S, which included not 
a few youths who have since distinguished themselves in the country's 
naval service. As a midshipman, he was dispatched on a practice cruise 
on the Wabash, and on board of her he spent two 3-ears in the Mediter- 
ranean, doing duty on the European station. After his return to America, 
he took a brief furlough at home, and in i860 returned to Annapolis to 
be examined for a commission. His standing in the examination, 
together with his creditable record on graduating, earned him the rating 
of third in his class. 

On the breaking out of the civil war, Dewey received his commission 
as a lieutenant, and joined the Gulf squadron, under the pennant of 



224 



ADMIRAL GEORGE DEWEY. 



Admiral Farragut. Dewey was assigned to the Mississippi, a seventeen- 
gun steam sloop of the old side-wheel type, under Commander Alelanch- 
thon Smith. Dewey's war record dates from the firing on Fort vSumter, 
in 1861. His first serious taste of war was when the West Gulf squad- 
ron forced a passage up 
the Mississippi River 
ahead of Farragut. 
How exciting this ex- 
pedition was at times 
may be judged from 
the fact that in pass- 
ing the batteries of St. 
Philip the ship was so 
near the shore that the 
gunners aboard her 
and the Confederate 
artillerymen in the for- 
tifications exchanged 
oaths as the}' dis- 
charged their volle^-s 
at each other. 

Dewey did splendid 
service with the West 
Gulf squadron, and 
may be said to have 
received his first real 
"baptism of fire," when 
Farragut ran the 
gauntlet from the forts below New Orleans, and forced the surrender 
of that stronghold. A later enterprise on the same river resulted 
in the grounding of the Mississippi in the middle of the night oppo- 
site port Hudson, where she was riddled with shot and set afire by 
the enemy's batteries, so that officers and crev\' had to abandon her and 




OFFICER DF.WEY LEAVING THE BURNING ' SHIP 

"MISSISSIPPI." 



ADMIRAL GP:0RGE DEWEY. 



221 



make their way as best the}' coukl to the other shore before the haines 
reached her magazine and she exploded. 

The waters of the Mississippi, which is at the best a treacherous 
river, were being fairly churned into fountains of foam by th_ shot and 
shell, and the explod- 
ing hot metal was run- 
ning into the water at 
every seeming inch of 
space. In the midst 
of all this a sailor who 
jumped overboard was 
struck. He was too 
badl}' wounded to catch 
.lisswimmingpaceashe 
struck the water. Lieu- 
tenant Dewey saw this 
incident in all the dark- 
ness and fearful noise, 
and without hesitation 
he jumped overboard, 
put his arm around the 
wounded sailor, held 
him until he got his 
strength again, and 
helpedhim into shallow 
water. Then he went 

back to his ship and ^^^^^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^. ^^^_^ ^,^. ^ ,^,^^,^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^^ 
remained there until ^ JUMPED from THE BURNING SHIP, 

every man had left. This was an action after Farragut's own heart, 
and the admiral instantly meutioned him for promotion. Dewey 
was hardly out of swimming reach of the ship when the magazine 
exploded. 

One of the crew recalls an order given by Dewey that night for the 
15 




226 ADMIRAL GEORGE DEWEY. 

whitewashing of the decks, that the gunners might see to do their grim 
work. The order, though an unusual one, was expedient, since all lights 
were forbidden while the vessel slipped by the forts without being discov- 
evered. This reminiscence, says a recent writer, is of special interest 
now, in view of the way Dewey made his entrance into ihe harbor at 
Manila in the darkness of that early May morning, in 1S98, when he 
sank or wrecked the whole of Admiral Moutojo's Spanish fleet. 

Other notable engagements in which Dewey figured during the civil 
war were those at Donaldson ville in 1863, where he was on one of the 
gunboats, and at Fort Fisher in the winter of 1864-5, as an officer of the 
Agawam. Receiving his commission as lieutenant-commander in March, 
1865, he served for two years on the Kearsarge and the Colorado, and 
was after this attached to the naval academy for a further period of two 
years. In 1870 he was given command of the Narragausett, and during 
his five years' charge of her rose to the rank of commander. 

MASTER OF ALL DETAILS. 

It is said of Dewey, that had he been in the army he would probabh' 
have been an engineer, for his is the order of mind adapted to the engi- 
neer corps. He is an officer who knows every detail of the ship under 
his command, and is master of tlie mechanical problems which play so 
large a part in modern naval warfare. 

In 1882, Commodore Dewey, then being attached to the Lighthouse 
Board, took his next spell of sea duty in command of the Juniata, of the 
Asiatic squadron. On reaching a captaincy in 1884, he was given 
charge of the Dolphin, one of the first vessels of the "new nav3\" 
From 1885 to 1888, he commanded the Peusacola, then the flagship of 
the squadron doing dut}' in European waters. This service afloat was 
followed b}' a shore duty of considerable duration, in the course of which 
Dewey served first as chief of the Bureau of Equipment at the Navj^ 
Department, and aftenvards, and for the second time on the Lighthouse 
Board. Two years later, 1896, he was raised to the rank of Commodore 
and made head of the Board of Inspection and Survey. Early in 1898, 



I 



ADMIRAL GEORGK DEWEY. 



227 



he was given commaud of the Asiatic squadrou, and in thai responsible 
post found the opportunity for distinction. Here, as in his earlier 
career, Commodore Dewej' proved himself the right man in the right place. 
The vessels comprising the Asiatic squadron were the Olympia (flag- 
ship), the Baltimore, Raleigh, Concord, Boston, Petrel, and the dispatch 
boat McCulloch. They were at Hong Kong when the commodore heard 
of the declaration of war with Spain, and presenth- he received instruc- 




UNITKD STATES CRUISER OLVMPIA. 

AD.MII;AL DEWEY's flagship at the battle of MANILA. 

tions which led him to take his fleet out of port and proceed to sea. 
How signally Dewey improved the occasion to distinguish himself and 
win glor}^ for his country's cause was for a time the world's wonder. 
Nor in the trying position in which, after his great victory, he was placed, 
has he shown himself in any other light than the pride and hero of the 
hour. The phenomenal victory he won at Manila on the morning of the 
ist of May, 1898, forms one of the brightest pages in our naval history. 
The famous engagement took place in the chief harbor (Manila) of 
the principal island (Luzon) of the Philippine group, whither Dewey had 



228 



ADMIRAL GEORGE DEWEY. 



steamed after leaving Hong Kong with liis fleet. Passing the forts ou 
Corregidor Island, at the mouth of the harbor of Manila, in the moon- 
light before the dawn of Sunday, May ist, and disregarding the mines in 
the channel, Dewey stealthily led his fleet well within the harbor and took 
up position facing the inner port of Cavite and the Spanish fleet lying a1 






'-;v i 






' ' '' ■" h~i'>"'K 



^" ^ "^^^Ar^'^iMk , 



^^^ 



^^ 






rf^^ 






S^ JE. 










MANILA HARBOR— SCENE OF THE GREAT BATTLE, 

anchor in front of the fortifications of the port. Here, at daj-breah, the 
American ships were discovered by the Spanish and firing at once began 
by the forts, which was speedily taken ;ip by Alontojo's fleet. The 
engagement lasted two hours, at the end of which a glorious victory was 
won by Dewey and his gallant command. 

A stud}' of its incidents shows the battle to have been fought and 



ADMIRAL GEORGE DEWEY. 



22U 



won by remarkable strategy on the part of the American commander 
and by the advantages of coolness, daring and good marksmanship, 
added to the splendid manoeuvring and seamanlike tactics of Dewey's fleet. 
So skilfully conducted was the fight, and so terrific and well-aimed the 
storm of shot and shell poured into the Spanish vessels, that within the 
comparatively short period of the engagement the whole of the enemy's 
fleet was destroyed. 

The achievement was rendered more notable b}^ the fact that, whih 




GREAT AMERICAN VICTORY IN THE HARBOR OF MANILA. 
every Spanish vessel was either sunk, fired or otherwise destroyed, the 
attacking fleet suffered no casualty, nor was there a loss of a single 
American life. This was chiefly due to the tactics of keeping the attack- 
ing fleet in constant motion during the engagement and by the rapid 
firing and splendid marksmanship of the American gunners. When the 
Spanish disasters were first noticed the circling line of devastation drew 
nearer to the enemy's ships, and in closing in first, one and then another 
of the Spanish vessels were placed hors de combat. 



230 ADMIRAL GEORGE DEWEY. 

Admiral Moiitojo's flagship, Uie Reina Cristina. was the first to suc- 
cumb. Beiug soon wrapped in flames, tlie Isle de Meudanao approached 
her and took off" the admiral and such of the officers and crew as were 
able to seek safety. Presently, however, the rescuing vessel herself 
burst into flames, while the Don Juan de Austria, receiving a shot which 
exploded her magazine, went down with all hands on board. As the Don 
Juan sank, the Castilla, the second largest ship of the vSpanish fleet, 
burst into flames, and the remainder were either sunk or ran into shoal 
water to escape punishment, and the batteries at Cavite were silenced. 
So complete was the destruction and fearful the loss of Spanish life and 
treasure, that the victory dazed and paralyzed the Spaniards, though they 
fought with desperation and showed great bravery. 

EVERY SPANISH SHIP DESTROYED. 

Further resistance, of course, was hopeless, seeing that every Span- 
ish ship was absolutely destroved, sunk, set on fire, or otherwise disabled. 
At this juncture, Commodore Dewey liumanel}- turned his attention to 
the care of the Spanish wounded, and sent a laconic message to the Span- 
ish authorities in Manila, informing them of the victory and discreetly 
warning them that " one more shot fired from the shore would be the sig- 
nal for a bombardment which would lay the city in ruins." He then 
dispatched the McCulloch to Hong Kong, to carry the news of the da^-'s 
glorious doings, modestly set forth, to be cabled to the Government and 
war authorities at Washington. 

The reception of the news, not only at the seat of government but 
throughout the United States, was most enthusiastic and elicited high 
praise for the thoroughness of the victory. Nor was the fact overlooked 
that it was won at no loss of American life and without any serious dam- 
age to any of the American fleet. President ]\IcKinley sent the hero of 
the hour congratulator}' messages, and made him an acting-Rear Admiral, 
besides recommendiug, in a special message to Congress, a vote of thanks 
from that body. This was unanimoush- passed, in a joint resolation of 
b:)th Houses, which also included thanks in the name of the American 



ADMIRAL GEORGE DFIWEY. 



231 



people, to all officers and men who liad taken part with Dewey in the 
engagement. 

Nor did the gallant Admiral's services end with the victor}'. Many 
delicate dnties had to be performed and ninch responsibility incurred, 
in not only holding what had been gained at Manila, but in compelling 




SIkLl 1 SLL\L I\ MANILA— 1 HILIII IM IsLAM)S 

the native insurgents to submission until reinforcements should arrive 
from the United States, when a combined attack, by sea and land, was to 
be made upon the Philippine capital. This took place on the 13th of 
August, when Admiral Dewey, in concert with a land force under Major- 
General Merritt bombarded the Spanish fortifications, and, after advanc- 
ing on the works, compelled the town to surrender. Just before the 
assault, the Spanish Governor-General of the Philippines (General 



■232 



ADMIRAL GEORGP: DEWEY. 



Au"-usti) hastened on board a German ironclad and fled from the islands. 
The surrender, which included 7,000 prisoners, took place two days before 
news of the armistice between the forces of the two countries reached 
Manila, and put the coping-stone upon Dewe3''s work at the Philippines. 
It also placed the United States in possession of Manila and its har- 
bor, with probabU- the whole island of Luzon, and thus gave the nation 
;in important strategic base of operations, should these at any time be 
contemplated, in the Pacific, iu the vicinity of Chinese waters. The vic- 




\. 




V.^ 



o>i*^ 




MEDAL PRESENTED TO ADMIRAL DEWEY. 

tor3% moreover, establishes the fame of Dewej- be3'ond peradventure, and 
ensures him a high place among the great naval heroes of histor}'. 

Personallv, .Admiral Dewey is held in high esteem in the service, and 
is greatly liked by all his men. He is a manly tj'pe of the modern naval 
officer, brave, alert, resourceful, and with a large and varied experience, 
both ashore and afloat. For many years he has been faith full}^ perform- 
ing the tasks allotted to his varjnng ranks, and doubtless he little 
dreamed, as the time drew near for his retirement from the service, that 
he was destined to perform a feat which woiild render his name famous 
and distinguish himself above his fellows. 

He is of compact build and of medium height, with a finel3'-chiseled 



ADMIRAL GEORGE DEWEY. 233 

face, and hair sprinkled now with gra}-. He has clear, keen eyes, and 
his firmly-set lips are indicative of decision of character. His manner is 
qniet and studiously courteous, though on occasion he can be peremptory 
and decisive. Though a man of daring, he possesses the qualifying and 
restraining qualit}- of good sense, and his good judgment is rarely at 
fault. Sociall}^ he is a great favorite in Washington, where he is known 
as a club-man, a good horseman, and a skilled athlete. He is fond of 
society, and rarely appears after dinner, when at the Capital, except in 
evening dress. In these varied characteristics he differs little from other 
naval officers who have been trained in the same school. 

THE ADMIRAL'S CHARACTERISTICS. 

Admiral Dewey's first wife was a Miss Goodwin, daughter of the 
War Governor of New Hampshire. She died in 1S75. Their one son, 
George Dewey, in speaking of his father's personal characteristics, said: 
"He is deliberate, cool, business-like, without fear, gentle, very fond of 
children, good-hearted and kind to everj-one. He is thorough in every- 
thing he undertakes, energetic, determined, and a good disciplinarian. 
In the matter of fighting, he believes in being always prepared, and, 
when the time comes, in striking quickly, and with deliberate intent. 
His chief aim is to put the enemy, as soon as he possibly can, in the posi- 
tion where he cannot continue the fight. He believes that our ships 
and men are the best fighting material in the world. Farragut is his 
model of a naval commander." 

When Admiral Dewey returned from Manila, the scene of one of 
the most famous victories in naval history', he was welcomed by millions 
of his countrymen. New York and surrounding places seemed to have 
poured out their entire population to welcome the hero. Such a demon- 
stration had never been witnessed before in our country. Wherever he 
went there was a loiid acclaim and enthusiastic demonstration on the 
part of the entire populace. 

He was made an admiral, and Congress presented him with a sword 
in honor of his world-renowned achievements. 




1TYPE OF THE HEROIC SAILOR — EARLY LIFE 
AND NAVAL EDUCATION — DARING EXPLOIT 
IN THE HARBOR OF SANTIAGO— HIS ELO- 
QUENT TRIBUTE TO THE BRAVERY OF OUR 
JACKIES — PERSONAL TRAITS. 

Many deeds of valor were performed in our war with Spain. It 
will be remembered that the fleet of the Spanish Admiral Cervera was 
sluit up for a long time in the harbor of Santiago on the southern coast 
of Cuba. The most thrilling episode of the long blockade, and one that 
will be marked in histor}'' as an act of the highest heroism, was the sink- 
ing of the ship Merrimac, early on the morning of Frida}-, June 3, 1898, 
by Richmond P. Hobson, and seven men, in the narrow channel leading 
into the harbor of Santiago, thus ''bottling up" Cervera's fleet so that 
only a single ship at a'time could escape from the harbor. 

While the blockading fleet was ceaseless in its vigilance, there was 
danger that the enemy might come out at any/'uf^ and some of the ves- 
sels, at least, escape. With Cervera's fleet were some tcrpedo boats, at 
that time, because of their speed, feared by the cruisers and bat- 
tleships, and one night two of them had come out of the harbor and 
threatened the Texas, but had gone back without making any attack or 
doing an}' damage. 

The situation was a trjaug one, and all over our country people were 

anxious as to the outcome. Many \vondered wh}- Sampson and Schley 

did not go into the harbor, like Dewey at Manila, and "capture or 

destroy the enemy," to use a now famous phrase. At the same time. 

now and then, was to be found one to suggest that the Spanish fleet 
234 



LIEUTENANT RICHMOND P. HOBSON. 



235 



should be bottled up. Under date of May 25th, a newspaper correspond- 
ent wrote : " The harbor of Santiago is very narrow, and at its entrance 
a half a dozen old iron steamers laden with stone should be sunk. In 
this way, the Spanish fleet will be bottled and corked up." 

The same thought had occurred to Lieutenant Hobson, at that time 
assistant naval constructor on Admiral Sampson's flagship, and he 
promptly proposed to attempt the deed himself, assisted b}- a few volun- 
teers. The plan was approved by Admiral Sampson. Volunteers were 




ARM(i'-']:iJ .SUliiMAKIM-: TuKrUJU MOMIOK. 

SHdt^ING ARRANGEMENT BF.LOW DECK. 

called for and whole cheering crews stepped forward for the hazardous 
adventure. About one hundred in the New York, one hundred and forty 
in the Iowa and like proportions in the other vessels volunteered. Mr. 
Hobson picked three men from the New York and three from the Mer- 
rimac. Besides them one man went as a stowaway against orders. 

The names of these seven men, whose heroism will be traditional 
in naval annals were : Daniel Montague, of Brooklyn, 29 years old, chief 
master-at-arms of the New York; George Charette, 31 years old, of 
Lowell, Mass., gunner's mate on the New York ; J. C. Murphy, coxswain 
of the Iowa; Osborn Deignan, 24 years old, cox.s\vain of the Merrimac ; 



236 



LIEUTENANT RICHMOND P. HOBSON. 



John F. Pliilips, 36 years old, of Boston, macliinist on the Alerrimac ; 
Francis Kelly, 35 years, of Glasgow, Scotland, a water tender, and R. 
Clausen, coxswain of the New York, who went without orders. The 
Merrimac had on board six hundred tons of coal. 

The plan had been well thought out b}' Lieutenant Hobson, and 
every detail had been foreseen. Sitting in his cabin on the flagship just 
before leaving on his perilous trip, Hobson said : 'T shall go right into 
the harbor until about four hundred j-ards past the Estrella battery, which 
is behind Morro Castle. I do not think the\- can sink me before I reach 




-^-^ 









X 




HARBOR AND FORTIFICATIONS OF SANTIAGO. 

THE CROSS SHOWS \VHEUE THE MERRIMAC WAS SUNK. 

somewhere near that point. The Merrimac has seven thousand tons 
buoyancy, and I shall keep her full speed ahead. She can make about 
ten knots. When the narrowest part of the channel is reached I shall 
put her helm hard aport, stop the engines, drop the anchors, open the 
sea connections, touch off the torpedoes and leave the Merrimac a wreck, 
h'ing athwart the channel. 

" There are ten 8-inch improvised torpedoes below the water line on 
the Merrimac's port side. They are placed on her side against the bulk- 
heads and vital spots, connected with each other by a wire under the 
ship's keel. Each torpedo contains eighty-two pounds of gunpowder. 
Each torpedo is also connected with the bridge, and they should do 



LIEUTENANT RICHMOND P. HOBSON. 237 

their work in a minute, and it will be quick work even if done in a minute 
and a quarter. 

" On deck there will be four men and myself. In the engine room 
there will be two other men. This is the total crew and all of us will b-: 
in our underclothing, with revolvers and ammunition in the watertight 
packing strapped around our waists. Forward there will be a man on 
deck, and around his waist will be a line, the other end of the Une being 
made fast to the bridge, where I will stand. 

HOW THE SIGNAL WAS TO BE GIVEN. 

'' By that man's side will be an axe. When I stop the engines 1 bhall 
jerk this cord, and he will thus get the signal to cut the lashing which 
will be holding the forward anchor. He will then jump overboard and 
swim to the four-oared dingy which we shall tow astern. The dingy is 
full of life buoys, and is unsinkable. In it are rifles. It is to be held 
by two ropes, one made fast at her bow and one at her stern. The first 
man to reach her will haul in the tow line and pull the ding}' out to star- 
board. The next to leave the ship are the rest of tlie crew. The quar- 
termaster at the wheel will not leave until after having put it hard aport 
and lashed it so; he will then jump overboard and take his chances 
with the others. 

" Down below the man at the reversing gear will stop the engine, 
scramble on deck, and get over the side as quickly as possible. The man 
in the engine room will break open the sea connections with a sledge 
hammer, and will follow his leader into the water. This last step insures 
the sinking of the Merrimac, whether the torpedoes work or not. By this 
time I calculate the six men will be in the dingy, and the Merrimac will 
have swung athwart the channel to the full length of her three hundrec^ 
yards of cable, which will have been paid out before the anchors were cut 
loose. Then all that is left for me is to touch the button. I shall stand 
on the starboard side of the bridge. The explosion wall throw the Merri- 
mac on her starboard side. Nothing on this side of New York City will 
be able to raise her after that." 



2Sh LIEUTENANT RICHMOND P. HOBSON. 

" And you expect to come out of this alive ? " asked a companion of 
Mr. Hobsou. 

Mr. Hobson said : ''I suppose the Estrella battery will lire down on 
us a bit, but the ships will throw their searchlights in the gunners' faces, 
and they won't see much of us. Then, if we are torpedoed, we should 
even then be able to make the desired position in the channel. It won't 
be so eas}^ to hit us, and I think the men should be able to swim to the 
dingy. I may jump before I am blown up. But I don't see that it makes 
much difference what I do. I have a fair chance of life either way. If our 
dingy gets shot to pieces we shall then try to swim for the beach right 
under Morro Castle. We shall keep together at all hazards. Then, we 
may be able to make our way alongside and perhaps get back to the ship. 
We shall fight the sentries or a squad until the last, and we shall only 
surrender to overwhelming numbers, and our surrender will only take 
place as a last and almost uncontemplated emergency." 

HOBSON'S LAST DIRECTIONS. 

Just before the Merrimac started on her last desperate run, she was 
hailed by one of the newspaper boats. Hobson's last words to the cor- 
respondents were : " Now, pardon me, but in case you gentlemen write 
anything of this expedition, please don't say anything individually about 
its members until j'ou know." 

He accented the last word ; and the inference was plain — until 
you know we are dead, would have filled out the .sentence. While the 
correspondents were on the bridge of the Merrimac, a young officer from 
the Marblehead came aboard on business. As he left he said : " Shall 
we send you fellows over some breakfast ? We would be delighted, and 
can do it just as well as not." 

" Never mind about the breakfast, old man," responded Mr. Hobson, 
"but if you can send some coffee we would be ver}' glad. You see wf; 
are swept pretty clean here, and none of us have had a drop of coffee 
since day before yesterday." 

It was a trivial incident, but coming from a man doomed to almost 



LIEUTENANT RICHMOND P. HOBSON. 239 

certain death, it seemed to add the last touch of the pathetic to a situa- 
tion heartbreaking enough in itself. 
^ Lieutenant Hobson thus describes his thrilling exploit : 

" It was about three o'clock in the morning when the Merrimac 
entered the narrow channel and steamed in under the guns of Morro 
Castle. The stillness of death prevailed. It was so dark that we could 
scarcel}^ see the headland. We had planned to drop our starboard anchor 
at a certaiu point to the right of the channel, reverse our engines and 
then swing the Merrimac around, sinking her directly across the channel. 
This plan was adhered to, but circumstances rendered its execution im- 
possible. When the Merrimac poked her nose into the channel our 
troubles commenced. The dead silence was broken by the wash of a 
small boat approaching us from the direction of the shore. I made her 
out to be a picket boat that was on the lookout. 

MERRIMAC LOST HER RUDDER. 

" She ran close up under the stern of the Merrimac and fired several 
shots from what seemed to be 3-potinder guns. The Merrimac's rudder 
was carried awa}- by this fire. That is whv the collier was not sunk 
across the channel. We did not discover the loss of the rudder until 
Mtirphy cast anchor. We then fotind that the Merrimac would not 
answer to the helm, and were compelled to make the best of the situa- 
tion. The run up the channel was verj^ exciting. The picket boat, had 
given the alarm, and in a moment the guns of the Vizcaya, the Almi- 
rante Oqueudo and of the shore batteries were turned upon us. 

" Submarine mines and torpedoes also were exploded all about us, 
adding to the excitement. The mines did no damage, although we could 
hear rumbling and feel the ship tremble. We were running without 
lights, and only the darkness saved us from utter destruction. When 
the ship was in the desired position and we found that the rudder was 
gone I called the men on deck. While they were launching the cata- 
maran I touched off the explosives. 

•*' At the same moment two torpedoes, fired by the Reina Mercedes, 



240 



LIEUTENANT RICHMOND P. HOBSON. 




struck the Merrimac amidships. I oanuot say whether our own exphi 
sives or the Spanish torpedoes did the work, but the Merrimac was lifted 
out of the water and almost rent asunder. As she settled down wc 
scrambled overboard and cut away the catamaran. A great cheer went 
up from the forts and warships as the hold of the collier foundered, the 
Spaniards thinking that the Merrimac was an 
American ship trying to enter the harbor. 

" We attempted to get out of the harbor in 
the catamaran, but a strong tide was running, 
and daylight found us still struggling in the 
water. Then for the first time the Spaniards saw 
us, and a boat from the Reina Mercedes picked 
us up. It was then shortly after five o'clock in 
the morning, and we had been in the water 
more than hour. We were taken aboard the 
Reina Mercedes and later were sent to Morro 
Castle. In Morro we were confined in cells in 
the inner side of the fortress, and were there 
the first day the fleet bombarded Morro. I 
could onl}' hear the whistling of the shells and 
the noise they made when they struck, but I 
judged from the conversation of the guards 
that the shells did considerable damage. 

" After this bombardment Mr. Ramsdeu, 
iNTERNATioNAi. SIGNAL CODE, the British Consul, protested, and we were 
removed to the hospital. There I was separated from the other men 
in our crew, and could see them only b}' special permission. Montague 
and Kelly fell ill, suffering from malaria, and I was permitted to visit 
them twice. Mr. Ramsden was very kind to us, and demanded that 
Montague and Kelly be removed to better quarters in the hospital. 
This was done. 

" As for myself, there is little to say. The Spanish were not dis- 
posed to do much for the comfort ■ f anv of the prisoners at first, but 







LIEUTENANT RICHMOND P. HOBSON. 241 

after our army had taken some of their men as prisoners our treatment 
was better. Food was scarce in the city, and I was told that we fared 
better than the Spanish officers." 

The next morning Hobson recounted his experiences more fully. 

" I did not miss the entrance to the harbor," he said, " as Ensign 

Powell in the launch supposed. I headed east until I got my bearings 

and then made for it, straight in. Then came the firing. It was grand, 

flashing out first from one side of the harbor and then from the other, 

from those big guns on the hills, the Vizcaya, lying inside the harbor, 

joining in. 

SOLDIERS ON THE CLIFFS FIRING WILDLY. 

• "Troops from Santiago had rushed down when the news of the 
Merrimac's coming was telegraphed, and soldiers lined the foot of the 
cliffs firing wildly across and killing each other with the cross fire. Only 
three of the torpedoes on her side exploded when I touched the button. 

" Her stern ran upon Bstrella Point. Chiefly owing to the work 
done by the mine she began to sink slowly. At that time she was across 
the channel, but before she settled the tide drifted her around. We were 
all aft, lying on the deck. Shells and bullets whistled around. Six-inch 
shells from the Vizcaya came tearing into the Merrimac, crashing into 
wood and iron and passing clear through, while the plunging shots from 
the fort broke through her decks. 

'"Not a man must move,' I said, and it was only owing to the 
splendid discipline of the men that we all were not killed, and the shells 
rained over us and minutes became hours of suspense. The men's 
mouths grew parched, but we must He there till daylight, I told them. 
Now and again one or the other of the men lying with his face glued to 
the deck and wondering whether the next shell would not come our way 
would say, ' Hadn't we better drop off now, sir ? ' but I said, ' Wait till 
daylight.' It would have been impossible to get the catamaran any- 
where but on to the shore where the soldiers stood shooting, and I hoped 
that by daylight we might "be recognized and saved. The grand old 
Merrimac kept sinking. I wanted to go forward and see the damage 

16 



2^2 LIEUTENANT RICHMOND P. HOBSON. 

(lone there, where nearly all the fire was directed. One man said that if 
I rose it would draw all the fire on the rest, so I lay motionless. 

"It was splendid the way those men behaved. The fire of the 
soldiers, the batteries and the Vizcaya was awful. When the 
water came up on the Merrimac's decks the catamaran floated amid the 
wreckage, but she was still made fast to the boom, and we caught hold of 
the edges and clung on, our heads only being above water. A Spanish 
launch came toward the Merrimac. We agreed to capture her and run. 
Just as she came close the Spaniards saw us, and half a dozen marines 
jumped up and pointed their rifles at our heads sticking out of the water. 

SAVED BY THE SPANISH ADMIRAL. 

"Is there any officer in that boat to receive a surrender of prisoners 
of war?" I shouted. An old man leaned out under the awning and 
waved his hand. It was Admiral Cervera. The marines lowered their 
rifles, and we were helped into the launch. Then we were pnt in cells in 
Morro Castle. It was a grand sight a few days later, to see the bombard- 
ment, the shells striking and bursting around El Morro. Then we were 
taken into Santiago. I had the court martial room in the barracks. My 
men were kept prisoners in the hospital. From my window I could see the 
ami}- moving, and it was terrible to see these poor lads moving across the 
open and being shot down by the Spaniards in the rifle pits in front of me." 

Hobson was overjoyed at getting back. He looked well, though some- 
what worn. On the whole, the Spaniards treated him better than 
might have been expected. Mr. Ramsden, the British consul at Santiago, 
was tireless in his efforts to secure comfort for Hobson and his men. The 
young hero knew nothing about the destruction of Cervera' s fleet until he 
reached the army line. He could not understand his promised excep- 
tional promotion, but was overjoyed to learn the news that his bravery 
had been recognized by the people. 

A few weeks after Hobson's famous exploit he received an over- 
whelming, enthusiastic welcome in New York. The Grand Opera House 
was crowded bj^ an applauding audience, man}' of them government 



I 



LIEUTENANT RICHMOND P. HOBSON. 243 

officiaics and distinguished citizens. His speech was a remarkable narra- 
tive of his daring deed, as well as an eloquent tribute to the American sailor. 
" Although I have been associated," he said, " with the sailor but a 
brief number of years, it has been long enough for me to learn to know 
him. M}' first experience with him — and his experiences are the only 
things a sailor can talk about — was on a cruise just after I left the Naval 
Academy. Several cadets had gone overboard to swim. Some of them 
were too venturesome and swam too far from the ship. One of them was 
seized with cramps. He cried out to those on board to send a boat to 
him. The sailors heard him. First one threw off his jacket, leaped 
overboard and started with strong strokes to save the cadet. Others 
began to jump overboard from the rail, from the gangwa3's, from the 
boom, until finally the officer of the deck had to give the order through 
the bo' sun : ' Let no more men go overboard ! ' 

HEROIC CONDUCT OF AMERICAN SAILORS. 

" I have seen the sailor show the same heroism in a storm at sea. 
A dear classmate of mine fell from the topmast and struck the water, 
apparently lifeless. The lifeboat crew was called away. Into it piled 
the men. It was lowered. The high sea capsized it, and there were 
seven struggling men in that angry sea instead of one to be rescued. 
The other lifeboat was called out. It was hardly necessary to give that 
order, though. The men were alread}- at their posts and the boat was in 
the water before the words of command had been uttered. The struggliug 
men in the water were all saved. 

"Such was my introduction to Jacky. Do 3^ou wonder that I love 
and respect the sailor? Every experience I have had since has strength- 
ened the opinions and impressions I first formed concerning him. I have 
had occasion to see Jacky when he was sorel}^ tempted. I have always 
found him equal to such emergencies, a credit to himself aud to the 
service. I feel that certain features of the recent incident in which Jacky 
played his part, and in which I had special opportunity for observing his 
conduct, should be referred to here. It is known that when the word was 



244 



LIEUTENANT RICHMOND P. HOBSON. 



sent out for volunteers to go into Santiago on the doomed Merrimac the 
sailors literally fell over each other to volunteer. The list on board the 
New York had run up to over one hundred, and the list signalled from 
the Iowa was 140 men, before the order was passed that no more volun- 
teers were needed. 

"When a few out of this numbe. nad been assigned to stations on 

the ]\Ierrimac, the direc- 
tions for them were to 
lie flat on their faces 
alongside of the post 
of duty imtil the}' had 
performed the deed 
which they were in- 
structed to perform 
Some stood by the gear, 
some were in the en- 
gine-room, some b}' the 
torpedoes, and so on. 
They were to remain 
where they were posted 
until the signal was 
given and they had 
done their part in 
making the expedition 
a success. The order 
was that no man should 
pay attention to the fire of the enemy. He was not even to look 
back over his shoulder to see where the fire was coming from. It 
was also understood that if any man was wounded he should pay no 
attention to his wound nor call the attention of anj^body else to it, but 
should place himself in a sitting, kneeling, or any other posture that he 
could, so that when the signal came he could perform the simple duty 
assigned him. 




TURRET OF A UNITED STATES BATTLESHIP. 



LIEUTENANT RICHMOND P. HOBSON. 245 

" And they carried out their instructions to the letter. They 
rc'iuained there on that ship, each man at his post, until their duty was 
performed. They laid there until five of the seven torpedoes had been 
shot away by the enemy's fire. The steering gear also had been shot 
away. The projectiles from the enemy's guns were coming so fast that 
it seemed as though they came more in a stream than singly. Yet those 
Jackies laid there to do their duty as instructed, and never flinched. 

NOT A MAN DISOBEYED ANY ORDER. 

" Again, when the work was done and the crew assembled again at 
the appointed place, and the Merrimac began to sink under them slowly, 
because only two of the seven torpedoes that were to sink had been fired; 
when for ten minutes that crew of Jackies lay there on their faces at the 
rendezvous, and the projectiles were exploding just in front of them, the 
simple order was given that no man should move until further orders. 
If there ever was a time and conditions when the principle of every man 
taking care of himself was justifiable, when men would have been excused 
for going overboard — going anywhere so long as they got away from 
where they were — it was on board the Merrimac those ten minutes. But 
not a man stirred. They waited for the order, feeling all the time the ship 
sinking beneath them, and seeing the shells exploding all around them. 

" A few minutes later, when the same group of Jackies was in the 
water, clinging with their heads just above water to the rounded corners 
of the catamaran and the enemy's picket-boats came pouring in with 
their lanterns to find something living — -then again the impulse was just 
as strong and as natural to get away from those picket-boats and to strike 
out for the shore. But the simple order was given that no man should 
move until further orders. There, clinging to that catamaran for nearly 
an hour, those men remained, every one of them, without a murmur. 

" When, that afternoon — the same afternoon as the striking, — by 
command of the gallant Commander-in-Chief of the Spanish fleet, Ad- 
miral Cervera (hisses, which were smothered bv loud cheering in which 
Lieut. Hobson joined), the personal effects of that crew of Jackies were 



246 LIP:UTENANT RICHMOND P. HOBSON. 

brought off from the ship to the prison in the boat that was sent to 
Admiral Sampson to tell of our safety, one of the men was allowed to 
come over to me while the distribution of our effects was being made. 
This man, who was the spokesman for all the rest, said, after referring 
to what they had just been through: 'We would do it over again 
to-night, sir.' 

"The next day, when, for all those sailors knew, the remnants of 
the inquisition were to be applied to get information from the prisoners, 
those Jackies had another test. A Spanish major, backed by several 
soldiers, began to question them. As he did so, the Spanish soldiers 
made significant signs like this. (Lieut. Hobson drew his hand across 
his throat.) The Jackies simply laughed at them. When the Spanish 
major urged the question as to the object of bringing the Merrimac in in 
the way we did, George Charette, acting as spokesman, replied : 

TYPES OF THE WHOLE AMERICAN NAVY. 

"'In the United States Navy, sir, it is not the custom for the sea- 
man to know or to inquire the object of his superior officer.' 

"Now, friends, if you will draw a proper deduction and regard these 
men of the Merrimac as simple types of the whole United States Navy, 
if you will properly look upon this little incident of the Merrimac as 
simply characteristic of the readiness of the men of the navy as a whole 
to do any duty that they are called upon to do, no matter how hazardous, 
you will have acquired a more or less complete and proper idea of the 
American Jack3\ '" 

We have read of the noble six hundred 

Who rode to the gate of hell ; 
How cannon roared right and left o. them, 

And many a noble man fell. 

They were ordered, and each did his duty ; 

A soldier must always obey — 
But the volunteer eight Yankee seaman 

Have eclipsed the six hundred to-day. 



LIEUTENANT RICHMOND P. HOBSON. 247 

There was death both below and above them, 

Torpedoes and bullets and shell ; 
They steamed from our fleet in the midst of it, 

And their comrades wished them farewell. 

God guarded these kings of the ocean, 

He honored the brave and the true ; 
The nation salutes to their honor ; 

The enemy honored them, too. 

Hobsou is considered one of the ablest men who ever graduated from 
the Naval Academy. Like most geniuses -he was regarded as peculiar. 
Men who were at the Naval Academy while he was there say his 
classmate? at first attempted to make life miserable for the quiet, studi- 
ous boy, but fotmd that he could resent their actions in a way that made 
them desist before he had been in the academy very long. He was only 
fifteen years old when he went to Annapolis, and his most marked charac- 
teristic was his use of words seldom in the vocabulary of a youngster of 
his age. One of his classmates says that Hobson was hazed a great deal 
in his plebe j^ear, and many a dignified officer had the honor of standing 
him on his head and making him do all sorts of ridiculous things. One 
day Hobson resented the annoyance to which he was subjected by older 
cadets in these words : 

" I do not desire, and neither will I tolerate, any more of your scur- 
rilous contumely." 

PLODDED AWAY AND GRADUATED SECOND IN HIS CLASS. 

At another time, Hobson was fishing from the end of the old Santee 
wharf, and a passing classmate asked him what he was doing. "Merely 
indulging in piscatorial pursuits," said the future hero of the Merrimac 
exploit. But while other cadets had fun at his expense, Hobson plodded 
away and graduated from the academy second in his class. 

Many stories are told of Hobson, illustrating his grit and his 
defiance of custom. He is said to have no respect for red tape. An officer 
at San Francisco tells this tale of him : 

" When Hobson was in the fourth class year, an order was issued 



248 LIEUTENANT RICHMOND P. HOBSON. 

that cadets in authority should be careful in reporting their classmates 
in the performance of any of their duties. Hobson was leader of a sec- 
tion and reported some of the members for some breach of discipline. 
Thereupon the class put Hobson in Coventry; that is, he was ostracised, 
none of his class speaking to him or having anything to do with him, 
Hobson then buckled right down to his books, and by the end of his 
third class year was at the head of his class. Then they decided to 
revise their judgment, but Hobson said : 

" ' No, geutlemen, you have got on without me these three years 
and I'll manage to worry along without you for the remaining year,' and 
he did. For four 3'ears this young. man had not a social associate among 
any of the cadets at the academj^ He never spoke to a cadet without 
addressing him as ' mister,' and insisted on the same treatment. In his 
first class year he was a four-striper, or the cadet in command of the bat- 
talion, and never before had there been a better drilled or more efficient 
lot of cadets." 

It was Mr. Hobson who proposed the establishment of a post 
graduate course at the Naval Academy for cadets who intended to entei 
the Construction Corps. Before that time all constructors were edu- 
cated abroad. Mr. Hobson was placed in charge of the course, and 
through that means he found a way of going with Admiral Sampson's 
squadron just before the war began. It was his idea that constructor;! 
should be assigned to sea duty iu time of hostilities on account of their 
knowledge of construction of ships, which would enable them to poinv 
out the vital parts of an enemy's vessel and thus assist commanding 
officers in conducting engagements. He also succeeded in having hi;; 
class of construction students assigned to the squadrons engaged in 
operations. 




ADMIRAL WILLIAM T. SAMPSON. 



^ i ^ ' T" RENOWNED NAVAL TACTICIAN AND COMMANDER — 

' _^;' ^^^'"'-^ ,-^i^ FIRST AT THE NAVAL ACADEMY— IN COMMAND OF 

3> '-^^'^ THE NORTH ATLANTIC SQUADRON — EXPLOITS IN 

^'^ OUR WAR WITH SPAIN. 

William Thomas Sampson was born February, 1840, near Palmyra, 
in tbe State of New York. The farm upon which Sampson was born is 
called Mormon Hill farm, owing to the fact that upon this propert}' 
Joseph Smith, the Mormon chief, made the excavation which, he claimed, 
resulted in the discovery of the golden plates of the Book of Mormon. 
Unlike some of the officers in the American nav}^, Sampson does not 
come of distinguished naval lineage. He was of humble parentage, his 
father being a laborer, and his earliest education was picked up by 
desultory attendance at country schools. His ambition to learn, how- 
ever, kept him at his books in the intervals of wood-cutting or similar 
occupations, and he diligently studied such text-books as were within 
his reach. He was an example of an ambitious country bo}% who meant 
to make something of himself. 

When the future admiral was seventeen he obtained, through the 
interest of Representative Morgan, an appointment as midshipman in the 
United States Naval Academ}^ at Annapolis. After four years of study 
at this institution he graduated first in his class, just before the opening 
of the Civil War. At the outbreak of the latter Sampson was not old 
enough to obtain a command, so his first service in the navy was on board 
the frigate Potomac of the South Atlantic squadron, where he remained 

one year as master. During his first year at sea his services were so 

249 



250 ADMIRAL WILLIAM T. SAMPSON. 

acceptable to the superior officers that he was promoted second lieuteii 
ant. While participating in the evolutions of the South Atlantic squad- 
ron he served on board the Jolin Adams and the Patapsco. 

It was the fate of Lieutenant Sampson, theu twenty-five years of 
age, to be acting as executive officer on board the iron-clad Patapsco, of 
the blockading fleet before Charleston, when that vessel was blown vip in 
Charleston harbor by a torpedo and sank in fifteen seconds, on Januarj' 
15, 1865. There were few of the younger officers in the navy at this 
time who had so good a record, and this incident in his career reflected 
credit on him for his striking coolness and nerve. He was senior officer 
on the monitor Patapsco, under Lieutenant-Commander S. P. Quack- 
eubush, January 15, 1865. On the evening of the 15th the Patapsco and 
the Lehigh were sent up the channel to drag for torpedoes, and, if possi- 
ble, to learn the nature and positions of any obstructions placed in the 
channel by the Confederates. Sampson was on the top of the turret, and 
the Patapsco was drifting slowly up the harbor, when suddenly a terrific 
explosion was heard that fairly stunned him. 

ORDER GIVEN TO MAN THE BOATS. 

" My first impression on hearing the report," he said in his official 
report, " was that a cannon-shot had struck the overhang just below the 
water ; but the column of smoke and water which at the same instant 
shot upward convinced me of the real nature of the explosion. The order 
to start the pumps was immediately given by me down through the tur- 
ret. So impracticable did the execution of the order appear the next 
instant that I did not repeat it. Immediately after the order was given 
to man the boats. Although these orders were issued in rapid succes- 
sion, only the officer of the deck, who stepped from the turret into the 
boat, and one man had time to obey the last order before the boat was 
afloat at the davits. 

" Owing to the wise precaution of having the picket boats near at 
hand, all those who were on deck at the time were saved. None escaped 
from below except the engineer and the fireman on watch, and one man 



ADMIRAL WILLIAM T. SAMPSON. 251 

who passed through from the berth-deck into the fire-room and up the 
hatch. 

"From my position on the ridge-rope round the turret, while steer- 
ing the vessel, I was not able to avail myself of the order to man the 
boats. I was soon picked up by one of the picket launches, and immedi- 
ately ordered the ofl&cer in command to pull up the harbor in the hope of 
picking up others, which was quickly done." 

COOL INTREPIDITY IN DANGER. 

In his report to the Secretary of the Navy the commanding office 
said : "The cool intrepidity displayed by Lieutenant Sampson, my exec 
utive officer, deserves the highest praise." Sampson afterwards became 
known throughout the service for just such qualities as he displayed on 
board the Patapsco. In 1866, while serving on the Colorado, Sampson 
received his commission as lieutenant commander. From 186S to 1871 
he was at the Naval Academy as instructor, and in 1872 and the fol- 
lowing year he was cruising in Europe and elsewhere on the Congress. 
In 1S74 he reached the grade of commander, in which capacit}- he served 
on the Alert, a third-rate vessel. Subsequently he was despatched to the 
Asiatic station in command of the Swatara. 

A turn of shore duty followed from 1876 to 1878 at the Naval x'\cad- 
emy, and in 1882 he was stationed at the Naval Observatory — a position 
which he held till 1885. While stationed at the Naval Observatory he 
was sent as a delegate to the International Prime Meridian and Time 
Conference, held at Washington in 1884. He also acted as a member of 
the Board on Fortifications and Other Defences, which convened at Wash- 
ington in 1885. From 1886 to 1890 he was superintendent of the Naval 
Academy. In 1889 he attained the rank of captain, and in that year was 
delegate from the United States to the International Maritime Confer- 
ence held at Washington. He was next ordered to the Pacific coast to 
take command of the new United States cruiser San Francisco, and 
since the formation of the new navy Captain Sampson commanded the 
battleship Iowa, one of the most formidable of modern war vessels. 



252 ADMIRAL WILLIAM T. SAMPSON. 

Subsequently he took charge of the Ordnance Bureau, ordnance mat- 
ters and torpedo work having been for uiau}^ years past Captain Samp- 
son's special duty. On the 24th of March, 1898, Captain W. T. Samp- 
son was promoted from the command of the battleship Iowa to succeed 
Admiral Sicard as commander of what was officially termed " The North 
Atlantic Squadron." Rear Admiral Sicard retired from this command 
on account of ill health. "The North Atlantic Squadron" consisted of 
the principal ships of the United States navy which had assembled off 
Key West in anticipation of war with Spain. On the 21st of April, 
1898, the President authorized him to hoist the flag of a rear admiral, 
and thus made him the senior flag officer of the entire fleet of the United 
States war vessels on the Atlantic coast. 

Admiral Sampson thus suddenly became the most prominent man 
of tbe hour in ihe United States navy in the approaching struggle with 
Spain. At the time of his appointment as rear-admiral. Captain 
Sampson was serving as president of the Maine Board of Inquir}^ in 
which capacity he manifested on all occasions sound judgment and a 
high order of efficiency. 

APPOINTED COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. 

His appointment as commander-in-chief of the North Atlantic 
naval station caused some surprise in naval circles. Captain Sampson 
was the fourth ranking captain in the service ; but the choice was popular 
and was amply justified b}- after events. No doubt those qualities of 
coolness and deliberation which caused his selection as president of the 
Maine Court of Inquiry led to his being chosen to command the North 
Atlantic Squadron. While his career had run in comparatively quiet 
grooves, wheu compared with certain other officers in the service, his 
record is none the less brilliant and interesting. He graduated from the 
Naval Academy, as we have seen, first in his class and stood high in 
all subsequent examinations — as an officer, as a scientist, and as an 
engineer. 

When the San Francisco was first put in commission under Captain 



ADMIRAL WILLIAM T. SAMPSON. 253 

Sampson, lie set the whole force on board to work so vigorousl}' that all 
visitors on board the vessel, Americans and foreigners, pronounced her 
to be in the finest condition of an}^ ship they had ever seen. In his 
duties he was carefiil and painstaking, and was a strict disciplinarian. In 
person Admiral Sampson was slight in figure, and possessed an earnest and 
liandsome face. He was much loved and respected by those under him. 
While chief of the Ordnance Bureau, Captain Sampson's health suffered 




BOMBARDMENT OF SAN JUAN BY ADMIRAL SAMPSON'S FLEET. 

severely from the close sedentar}' habits which his duties imposed, auc lie 
tried to counteract the bad effects b}- all sorts of athletic exercises at 
home. He had been twice married, and had two sons and fourdaughters. 
On Sunday, July 3d, 1898, occurred the battle off Santiago de Cuba in 
which the Spanish fleet of Admiral Cervera was destroyed by the Amer- 
ican blockading squadron commanded by Admiral Sampson. At the 
eventful moment of the attempted escape of the Spanish fleet from the 
harbor Admiral Sampson was on the flagship New York, four miles 
east of the blockading station, and seven miles from the harbor entrance 



254 



ADMIRAL WILLIAM T. SAMPSON. 



where the bauie took place. Admiral Sampson had intended to land at 
Siboney to consult with General Shafter, commander of the land forces 
in Cuba, to discuss the situation, as a more definite understanding 
between the operations proposed of the land and sea forces had been 
rendered necessary by the unexpectedly stubborn resistance of the 
Spanish garrison of Santiago. 

While the American commander was thus absent the Spanish 




VESSELS OF THE SPANISH FLEET Oil bAXllAGO. 
squadron appeared in the channel to make a dash through the line of 
blockade. The commander of the second division, Commodore Schley, 
took up the chase and led the fleet to victory until the New York, with ' 
Admiral Sampson on board, came up, and the latter resumed command. 
The expediency of Admiral Sampson's leaving the post of blockade 
at this time has given occasion for some adverse criticism. There is no 
question, however, that a meeting between the two leaders of the land 
and sea forces was necessary at this time for a better understanding of 
tlie joint mode of attack on Santiago. It was unfortunate, perhaps, for 



ADMIRAL WILLIAM T. SAMPSON. 255 

Admiral Sampson that the Spanish fleet should have chosen jnst that 
particular hour for its attempted escape, but the result of the encounter 
could not have been more favorable to the American fleet than it was. 
It is therefore of little purpose to speculate on the conduct of the chief 
iifficer in charge. He had manifested his skill in manceuvring tactics 
ju former occasions, and, as has been noted, there were excellent reasons 
in the existing situation wh)^ Admiral Sampson should seek a consulta- 
tion with Geueral Shafter. The battle of Santiago speaks highly for 
the skill and care of Admiral Sampson in maintaining the efficiency of 
his fleet, and for holding the officers and men under his charge in proper 
readiness for the work they were there to do. If the Admiral cannot be 
called a showy and dashing officer, he undoubtedly possessed high and 
equall}' admirable qualifications for his important command. 

He died at Washington May 6, 1902, sincerely mourned by a large 
circle of friends and admirers, all of whom were able to testify to his 
nobl? qualities as a man and his great ability as an officer. 








CHAPTER XV. 

ADMIRAL WINFIELl) S. SCHLEY. 

HEROIC COMMANDER AT THE BATTLE OF 
SANTIAGO — COOL AND COURAGEOUS— FINE 
REPRESENTATIVE OF THE AMERICAN SAILOR 
— A POPULAR HERO— MANY GALLANT EX- 
PLOITS AND BRAVE DEEDS. 

The desperate bravery of the Spaniards in our war with ,Spain was 
more than matched by our great commanders, one of whom was Winfield 
Scott Schley. He was born in Frederick Count}-, Maryland, October 9, 
1839. He entered the Naval Academy at Annapolis at the age ol'fit'teeti, 
aud two 3'ears later was appointed an acting midshipman. He gradiiated 
from the acadeni}^ in i860, and began his seafaring life b}' making the 
voyage to Japan on board the United States vessel which escorted the 
Japanese embass}' back to their own conntr}^ in that j^ear. 

He served on board the United States frigate Niagara in China and 
Japan, and remained abroad until the call to arms of the Civil War 
required the presence of all the United States forces, naval and militar}-. 
The exigencies of the war at that time brought ofi&cers forward ver}- rap- 
idly, and Schle}' was promoted to be master early in 1S61, and was 
ordered to the United States frigate Potomac. While serving in her his 
daring aud gallantrj^ secured him the first prize-ship of the war, the 
General Parkhill. He was present on board the Potomac at the occupation 
of Mexico, early in 1862, b}- the combined powers of Englaud, France and 
Spain. He was next engaged with the Western Gulf Squadron, on the 
Potomac, in the blockade of Mobile Bay, where he took a prominent part 
in numerous adventures with the enemy's boats on the latter attempting 
to run the blockade. 

26G 



ADMIRAL WINFIFXD SCOTT SCHLEY. 'lol 

When the Potomac was turned into a shore-ship, Schley was given 
command of the gunboat Winona, of the West Gulf blockading squadron. 
In her he patroled the Mississippi River for a year, and during this time 
took part in many encounters. He made the original reconnoissance 
preparatory to the attack upon Port Hudson, at which time the Winona 
received ninety-eight shells in her hull and suffered the loss of eighteen 
men, though succeeding in evading capture. He was engaged in several 
operations with field batteries on the river, and afterwards took part in 
the various engagements which led to the capture of Port Hudson, in 
Louisiana, from Marcli i6 to July 9, 1863. He participated in several 
skirmishes, and in cutting out, under heavy fire, two schooners engaged 
in conveying supplies to the Confederate forces. 

NEVER OUT OF ACTIVE SERVICE, 

After the assault upon Port Hudson, in which he took part, fecbley 
remained six months longer on the river service occupied in preparations 
tending to reduce tbat stronghold. He was commissioned as lieutenant 
July 18, 1862, only two years after leaving the Naval Academy. During 
his service with the West Gulf squadron, Schley had served on the steam- 
sloop Monongahela and subsequently on the Richmond. At the close of 
the Civil War, Schley was oi'dered to the Pacific coast to serve in the 
Pacific squadron. From 1864 to 1866, he was attached to the steam gun- 
boat Wateree, as executive officer, and performed various missions of a 
perilous character, being present at the bombardment of Valparaiso and 
Callao by the Spanish fleet, and during the same cruise he suppressed, at 
Middle Chincha Island and at La Union, Honduras, an insurrection 
among the Chinese coolies. 

At the latter place he landed with one hundred men to protect the 
custom-house and United States consulate during the revolution. He was 
commissioned a lieutenant-commander in Jul }^, 1866, and, upon his return 
from the Pacific, was ordered to the United States Naval Academy, where 
he remained until 1869, as instructor. At the close of his period of shore 
service at the academy he was appointed lieutenant-commander of the 

17 



258 ADMIRAL WINFIELD SCOTT SCHLEY. 

United States ship Benicia, and served in her on the Asiatic station until 
1872. While on boardthe Benicia, Schley took part in an attack on the forces 
defending the fort on the Salee River, in Corea, wherein the Coreaus 
were taught a lesson in regard to the power of the United States that they 
will probably long remember. 

The Coreans had treacherously attacked and fired on the United 
States survey-boats in the Han River. After waiting some time for an apol- 
ogy or explanation from the Corean government, and as none was forthcom- 
ing, Lieutenant-Commander Schley was ordered to take chargeof the land 
expedition of chastisement, consisting of 650 men and seven howitzers. The 
valor of the United States marines and the splendid marksmanship of the 
Dahlgren batteries on land greatly assisted Schley and his command, and 
the five fortifications were destroyed as fully as shell, sword, shovel, fire 
and sledge could do the work. After administering this punishment, 
Schley landed his forces safely on the decks again, and at an early oppor- 
tunity thereafter the Coreans made a treaty of peace. On this occasion, 
as on all others requiring dash, courage and coolness, Schlej- did not lack 
the necessary qualities. 

VOYAGE TO NORTH POLAR REGIONS. 

When the Greely relief expedition was organized, in 1884, Schley 
was sent in command of it to the North Polar regions, and on June 2 2d, 
he rescued Lieut. Greely and six survivors off Cape Sabine, and brought 
them home with characteristic promptitude. Partly as a reward for his 
service he was promoted by President Arthur to be chief of the Bureau 
of Equipment and Recruiting in the Navj- Department in which post he 
served until 1888. He was reappointed to the same position by President 
Cleveland, but resigned the office in 1889. 

While in the Bureau he was promoted to a captaincy, and in leaving 
the position was in the same year given command of the new cruiser 
Baltimore, and served with her on the North Atlantic, European, and 
South Pacific stations. During his command of the Baltimore, he carried 
back to Stockholm, Sweden, the remains of the late John Ericsson, the 



ADMIRAL WINFIELD SCOTT SCHLEY. 



259 



distinguished inventor of the Monitor. Schley was in command of the 
Baltimore during the complications and trouble with Valparaiso, Chile, 
in 1 89 1. In 1893, he was called to do duty as lighthouse inspector of 
the third lighthouse district at Tompkinsville, New York. He was made 
chairman of the Lighthouse Board, April 15, 1897, ^^^ later served as 
president of the same board. It will be seen from this chronicle of duties 
and a-lventnres that Commodore Schley is the hero of a particularlv lively 




TOTAL DKSIRUCTION OF THE M'.\M.-iH FLEET NEAR SANTIAGO. 

career. He is a man of tireless activity and possesses a brain fertile in 
expedients. 

In May, 1898, Schley was promoted to be commodore, and was given 
command of the Flying Squadron. On the third of July, 1S98, occurred 
the memorable battle of Santiago de Cuba, one of the liveliest achieve- 
ments in modem naval warfare. In the battle Commodore Schley was 
destined to perform the chief act of his life. In the temporarj^ absence 
of Admiral Sampson, the command of the blockading fleet fell upon 
Commodore Schlev. and he perfonned his duties with the highest credit 



•2«iO ADMIRAL WINFIKLD SCOTT SCHLEY. 

to liimself and to his country. For the fir.st time in history great battle- 
ships of modern construction were pitted against each other and the 
expected action ofif the coast of Cuba was hioked forward to with great 
interest by all students of scientific naval warfare. 

The Spanish fleet included four great war vessels, each of 7000 tons 
displacement. Their armament embraced a number of ten and eleven- 
inch guns, and though the American battleships were somewhat larger 
and heavier, and their ai-mament included some thirteen-inch guns, it 
was not entirely due to the odds against Spain that her fleet was 
destroyed. It was due more to the level and decisive action of Schle}' and 
to his fine tactics in conjunction with the other captains of the American 

war vessels. 

SUPERB COURAGE AND COOL HEAD. 

Admiral Sampson was miles away on a recounoitering cruise at the 
hour of Admiral Cervera's fatal attempt to dash out of the harbor at San- 
tiago, and it was well for the American forces that the ofiicer ranking 
next in command was one so competent as Commodore Schley. The 
destruction of the enemy's ships on the occasion could not have been more 
efl"ectively accomplished and reflected great credit on Schley and the other 
commanders of the American vessels. The superb courage and resource- 
ful brain of Commodore Schley on this occasion gained him the honor 
of leading the great fight which closed Spain's sea power in the New 
World. In all the history of naval warfare nothing like this result has 
been chronicled, and the crushing of Spain's fleet by Schley and his 
brave men gives to them a lasting place of honor among the heroes of 
great American sea fights. 

The reader will be interested in the details of the battle at Santiago, 
in which our Jack Tars displayed such splendid valor. 

The fleet of Admiral Cervera had long been shut up in the harbor 
of Santiago, and during the two days' fighting gave effective aid to the 
Spanish infantry by throwing shells into the ranks of the Americans. 
Cervera's fleet, consisting of the armored cruisers Cristobal Colon, 
Almirante Oquendo, Infanta Maria Teresa and Vizcaya, and two torpedo- 



ADMIRAL WINFIELD SCOTT SCHLEY. 



261 



boat destroyers, the Furor and the Pluton, which had been held in the 
harbor of Santiago de Cuba for six weeks by the combined squadrons of 
Rear-Admiral Sampson and Commodore Schley, was sent to the bottom 
of the Caribbean Sea off the southern coast of Cuba. 

Admiral Cervera made as gallant a dash for liberty and foi the pres- 
ervation of his ships as has ever occurred in the history of naval war- 
fare. In the face of overwhelming odds, with nothing before him but 
inevitable destruction or sur- 
render if he remained any 
longer in the trap in which 
the American fleet held him, 
he made a bold dash from the 
harbor at the time the Ameri- 
cans least expected him to do 
so, and, fighting every inch of 
his way, even when his ship 
was ablaze and sinking, he 
tried to escape the doom which 
was written on the muzzle of 
every American gun trained 
upon his vessels. 

The Americans saw him 
the moment he left the harbor 

and commenced their work of admiral cervera. 

destruction immediately. For an hour or two they followed the flying 
Spaniards to the westward along the shore line, sending shot after shot 
into their blazing hulls, teariug great holes in their steel sides, and 
covering their decks with the blood of the killed and wounded who had 
fallen during the action. 

At no time did the Spaniards show any indication that they intended 
to do otherwise than fight to the last. They displayed no signals to 
surrender even when their ships commenced to sink and the great, dark 
clouds of smoke pouring from their sides showed they were on fire. But 




•282 ADMIRAL WINFIELD SCOTT SCHLKY. 

they turned their heads toward the shore, less than a mile away, and raii 
them on the beach and rocks, where their destruction was completed in 
an incredibly short space of time. 

Heavy explosions of ammunition occurred every few minutes, send- 
ing curls of dense white smoke a hundred feet in the air and causing a 
shower of broken iron and steel to fall in the water on every side. The 
bluffs on the coast line echoed with the roar of every explosion, and the 
Spanish vessels sank deeper and deeper into the sand or else the rocks 
ground their hulls to pieces as they rolled or pitched forward or sideways 
with every wave that washed upon them from the open sea. 

SENT BOAT TO SAVK SPANISH ADMIRAL. 

Admiral Cervera escaped to the shore in a boat sent by the Glouces- 
ter to the assistance of the Infanta Maria Teresa, and as soon as he 
touched the beach he surrendered himself and his command to Lieu- 
tenant Morton and asked to be taken on board the Gloucester, which 
was the only American vessel near him at the time, with several of his 
officers, including the captain of the flagship. The Spanish admiral, 
who was wounded in the arm, was taken to the Gloucester, and was 
received at her gangway by her commander, Lieutenant Commander 
Richard Wainwright, who grasped the hand of the graybeardcd admiral 
and said to him : 

" I congratulate you, sir, upon having made as gallant a fight as 
was ever witnessed on the sea." 

Lieutenant Commander Wainwright then placed his cabin at the 
disposal of the Spanish officers. Ac that time the Spanish flagship and 
four other Spanish vessels had been aground and burning for two hours, 
and the onlj' one of the escaping fleet which could not be seen at this 
point was the Cristobal Colon. But half a dozen curls of smoke far down 
on the western horizon showed the fate that was awaiting her. 

The Cristobal Colon was the fastest of the Spanish sliips, and she- 
soon obtained a lead over the others after leaving the harbor, and 
escaped the effect of the shots which destroyed the other vessels. She 



ADMIRAL VVINl'IELD SCOTT SCIILI'V. 



2G;; 



steamed away at great speed witli the Oregon, New York, Brooklvu and 
several other sliips in pursuit, all of them firing at her constantly and 
receiving fire themselves from her after guns. There seemed no possi- 
bility whatever for her escape, and while her fate was not definitely 
known for some time, it was predicted from the words of Captain Robley 
D. Evans, of the Iowa, who returned from the westward with 340 
prisoners from the Vizcaya. 

In answer to an inquiry, he shouted through the megaphone : " I 
left the Cristobal Colon far to the westward an hour ago, and the Oregon 




THE DATlLKSIIll' MWA. 

was giving her thunder. She has undoubtedU^ gone with the others, and 
we will have a Fourth of July celebration in Santiago to-morrow." Cap- 
tain Evans, who had been in the thick of the engagement up to the time 
he took the Vizcaya's officers and crew from the shore, said that to the 
best of his knowledge not one American ship had been struck. The 
torpedo-boat Ericsson, which also returned from the westward at about 
the same time, made a similar report, sa3dng it was believed no man was 
injured on board the American ships, though another report had it tha' 
one man was killed aboard the Brooklyn. This report was afterward:; 
confirmed. 



264 



Ai^ivlIKAL WINFIKLD SCOTT SCHLEY. 



Another account by an eye-witness gives additional particulars of 
the great battle : "Three of the Spanish cruisers that were bottled up in 
Santiago harbor and two torpedo-boat destroyers were pounded into help- 
less hulks by the guns of Admiral Sampson's fleet on Sunday in a vain 
attempt to escape from the harbor. The vessels were beached in a last 
effort to save as many of the lives of the crews as possible. Admiral 
Cervera, on board the Maria Teresa, headed his fleet in the attempt to get 
away ;;t about half-past 9 o'clock. So little were the Americans expect- 




THE BATTLESHIP OREGON, 
ing the dash that the flagship New York was cruising up the coast to the 
east and returned only in time to see the finish of the fight and to fire a 
shot or two at the torpedo-boat destroyers. 

"The Iowa, Indiana, Oregon, Massachusetts, Texas, Brooklyn and 
the converted yacht Gloucester, formerly the Corsair, formed in position 
to give battle as soon as the Colon was sighted rounding the wreck of the 
Merrimac. 

" The American vessels did not open fire at once ; they waited until 
Cervera's ships were out of the range of Morro's guns before giving battle. 



ADMIRAL WINFIELD SCOTT SCHLEY. 265 

Cervera headed to the west, the Colon in the lead, followed by the Vizcaya 
and Oquendo and the destroyers, all firing rapidly. 

"All of the American battleships opened fire at once, and the Spanish 
were .soon in a hnrricane of shot and shell, but the Teresa kept on bravely 
till when ten miles from the westward of Morro Castle, Admiral Cervera 
turned his vessel to the shore and beached her. She was blazing in a 
score of places, but her guns kept at work and the white flag never showed 
until she was completely disabled. 

"The Oquendo and Vizcaj'a were opposed to the Iowa, Texas and 
Indiana, and went down to defeat with fearful swiftness, covering only 
about half the distance made by the Colon before their captains ran them 
ashore. Their crews fought with desperate bravery, but their courage 
was no match for the courage of our men, added to their superb gunnery. 
The Spanish shells went wild for the most part, but the American gun- 
fire was marked by merciless precision. The two cruisers, both on fire, 
were beached not more than one-quarter of a mile apart." 

The annihilation of the Spanish fleet was an absorbing topic among 
naval officials at Washington, and they gave most generous praise to 
Commodore Schley for the notable manner in which he directed the fight, 
when the immediate command fell to his lot. The Commodore's friends 
predicted that if he secured an opportunity he would render good account 
of the fighting ability of the American navy, and they were glad this 
opportunity was afforded. 

It was one more, and perhaps the greatest achievement in a long 
line with which Commodore Schley's name has been associated ; others 
included the relief of the Greely Arctic expedition and the command 
of the Baltimore at Valparaiso when war was imminent as a result of a 
mob attack on the American blue jackets. In recognition of his services 
he was made Admiral. 



3 >. '--^ 


f 




>> 


r^ 








fk^ f 







CHAPTER XVI. 

COMMANDER WAINWRIGHT. 

ONE OF THE NAVAL HEROES OF SANTIAGO— 
HIS LITTLE BOAT SINKS TWO SPANISH 
VESSELS — RECEIVES THE SURRENDER OF 
THE SPANISH ADMIRAL — A MODEL OFFICER 
OF PEERLESS BRAVERY. 

To the names of Dewey, Schley and other heroes of our navy, who 
distinguished themselves in the war with Spain, must be added that of 
Richard Wainwright. At the battle of Santiago he was in command of 
the Gloucester, a small vessel which was nothing more than a yacht that 
had been "converted," in other words, changed and fitted up for naval 
service. 

The gallantry displayed by Wainwright during the engagement and 
the heroic service he rendered with his plucky little craft were the wonder 
and admiration of our whole country. He showed himself to be not only 
a brave fighter, but a most gallant sailor and gentleman ; and although 
a man of no dandy traits, but rather of rough and stem qualities, he 
proved that beneath this exterior garb he carried a noble and generous 
nature. His share is a large one in the glory of our victory over the 
Spanish fleet. 

"Mark my words, if Dick Wainwright ever gets to close quarters 
with a Spanish ship there'll be a fight to the finish ; and, sink or swim, 
Wainwright will make a name for himself that will live as long as there 
is a navy." The prediction was made only a short time before the wr.v 
broke out by a naval officer in Key West ; it was verified off Santiago. 

From that awful moment when Wainwright stood beside his captain 

on the sinking quarter-deck of the Maine, when this ship was blown up 
266 



COMMANDER RICHARIJ) WAl.WVRIGHT. 



267 



in the harbor of Havana, and gave the order to lower away the boats, he 
h)oked forward to some such opportunity as that which has now linked his 
name with the Gloucester in the memorable battle that was so disastrous 
to the warships of Spain. 

No man knew better than he the ghastly horrors that followed that 




MORRO CASTLE, HAVANA, CUBA. 

night in Havana harbor. No man was more certain than he that the 
Maine disaster was not an accident, and none was better qualified to 
reach a just conclusion. During all the long weeks following the dis- 
aster it was Wainwright who toiled beside the wreck and above it, from 
dawn till dark, directing the divers' work, recovering the bodies of the 
dead, familiar with everj^ development of evidence, the confidant oi 
every grim secret bronght to light by the submarine research. 

Long after Captain Sigsbee and all his other subordinates had been 



2G8 



COMMANDER RICHARD WAINWRIGHT. 



relieved of their painful task, Wainwright, the sole surviving officer of 
the Alaine left in Havana harbor, pulled down the weather-stained flag 
that had floated day and night from the shrouds of the wrecked battle- 
ship. When Wainwright left Havana the United States Government 
relinquished its sovereignty over the Maine. 

The personality of the man who, with his battery of little six- 
pounders, braved the fire of Spain's dreaded destroyers, and sent the 
Pluton and the Furor ashore ablaze and riddled, is of no more than 




WRECK OF THE UNITED STATES CRUISER MAINE IN THE HARBOR OF HAVANA. 

passing interest. Wainwright is a sailor to the core. Six feet tall or 
more, but a trifle too lean to look athletic, he is, nevertheless, a man 
for action. He is one of those men whose anatomy seems all brains and 
bone and sinew. Still on the junior side of middle life, he is old enough 
to have a face that impresses one as serious, until the keen blue eyes 
light up with merriment or, it may be, with scorn. 

As he appeared after the wreck of the Maine, his skin was bronzed 
to the color of leather by exposure to the tropical sun. He always wore 



COMMODORE RICHARD WAINWRIGHT. 269 

a weather-beaten undress naval coat, much the worse for wear. Indeed, 
he had no other left from the wreck than the one he had on his back. 
He was the busiest man in Havana except, perchance, the good chaplain. 
Father Chidwick, and the undertaker, but he alwa3'S had time for a 
smiling greeting and a firm hand grasp, and was ever ready to talk 
except when questions intruded on forbidden ground. No man in the 
service observed more faith full}^ than he the department's injunction of 
secrecy on all topics pertaining to the sinking of the Maine. Yet 
Wainwright's views were no great secret. You could read them in his 
rigid face and hard set jaw as he went about his gruesome work. 

ONLY WAITED HIS OPPORTUNITY. 

Captain Sigsbee betrayed no secret when he said, speaking of his 
executive of&cer : " Wainwright felt very vindictive about the Maine 
disaster, and was always longing for a chance to get at the Spanish. I 
used to laugh at his bellicosit}', it was so extreme. It was not the kind, 
however, which expends itself wholly in talk." 

Verily, if ever a man remembered the Maine, Dick Wainwright did. 
Big-hearted, as are most brave men, the death of 266 of his gallant sub- 
ordinates left a wound that would not heal. He was as popular with 
them as with his fellow-officers. Though a strict disciplinarian, the 
Maine's executive officer during the two months he had been attached to 
the ship in that capacity had won his wa}' to their hearts. 

Lacking somewhat the charming personality, the magnetism and 
the rare conversational powers of his chief. Captain Sigsbee, Wainwright 
had endeared himself by his sterling, manly qualities and unassuming 
manner. He was prompt always in action, a master of the duties of his 
profession, firm, without severit}-, strict, but not a martinet ; dignified 
always, but haughty never — in short, an almost perfect type of the 
trained American seaman. Quarter-deck and forecastle alike voted him 
a thoroughbred officer. 

Small wonder the hero of the Gloucester felt that he had a long 
score to settle when he plunged his little pleasure yacht into the thick of 



270 C0MMANDP:R RICHARD WAINWRIGHT. 

the fight aud pumped his baby battery agaiust the ribs of every Spanish 
craft in sight. But Wainwright was a generous foe. As Bayard Taylor 
has said, "The bravest are the tenderest." When the gray-haired admiral 
of Spain was brought, a prisoner of war, aboard the Gloucester, broken 
in spirit and wounded in body, Wainwright received him at the gangway 
with outstretched hand : 

" I congratulate you, sir, upon having made as gallant a fight as was 
ever witnessed on the sea." Generous, chivalric words, these, and we 
can well imagine the cordial hand grasp that attended them, and the 
unstudied courtesy with which the commander of the victorious Gloucester 
turned over the privacy of his own cabin, while the defeated admiral was 
left alone with his grief. Wainwright's taciturn face is a stranger to 
tears, but he could understand the sorrow of one who weeps for his 
slaughtered comrades and his stricken ship. 

FIGHTING NOT A SAFE BUSINESS. 

Commander Wainwright, among other officers, was detailed to write 
a treatise discussing the following question : "If about to go into action, 
what disposition would you make of your small boats with a view of 
securing the greatest safety of your men ? " 

Wainwright's reply was an able one. The pith of it, however, was 
substantially contained in the following : " If about to go into action in 
comparatively shallow water, I should, if time permitted, strip the vessel 
clear of her small boats and moor them safely at a distance until after 
the fight. If pressed for time, I should simply put them adrift. If about 
to go into action in deep water, I should set my boats adrift anyhow, 
leaving the ship and her officers and crew to take the chances of war. 
Fighting cannot be made a safe business." 

Mr. Wainwright probably inherits his fighting instinct. He is a son 
of old Commodore Wainwright, and comes of good fighting stock. His 
appointment to the Naval Academy was from the District of Columbia, 
and during his course he attended strictly to his studies, was always 
ready for any duty assigned him, and, although not regarded as a bril- 



COMMANDKR RICHARD VVAINWRIGHT. 271 

liaut cadet, it was predicted that he would prove his solid worth audshow 
strong qualities if the opportunity for doing so ever came to him. 

His heroism will appear from the accounts given of the battle at 
Santiago. The Spanish ships came out of the harbor, not with any 
ill ought that our fleet could be defeated, but with the hope of escaping. 
The lookout on the American vessels, which were lying five to ten miles 
off the entrance to the harbor, sighted them immediately. Most of the 
American cruisers were at the usual Sunday morning quarters without 
thought of anything as surprising as the Spanish fleet making its 
appearance. 

There was great excitement at once, and very rapid action all along 
the American lines. The signal for " full speed ahead " was running 
from bridge to engine room of every ship, and the entire fleet commenced 
to move in shore towards the Spanish, and the great twelve and thirteen- 
inch guns of the battleships and the smaller batteries on the other vessels 
fired shot after shot at long range, striving to get near the foe. 

A DESPERATE RACE FOR SAFETY. 

As the ships ran in toward the shore it soon became evident that 
the Spaniards had not come out to make an aggressive fight, for they 
turned to the westward as soon as they had cleared the harbor, and started 
on their race for safety, at the same time sending answering shots at the 
American ships as fast as the men could load and fire the guns. The 
Brooklyn, Massachusetts, Texas, Oregon and Iowa were nearer the Span- 
iards than any others of the American vessels, but still most of them 
were too far awa^' to get an effective range. They crowded on all steam, 
however, in preparation for the chase, never stopping their fire for one 
moment. 

The Gloucester, a fast little yacht that could not boast of any heavier 
battery than several six-pounders and three-pounders, was lying off 
Aguadores, three miles east of Morro, when the Spaniards came out. 
.\t first she joined in the attack upon a large vessel and then held off. 
Captain Wainwright concluding to reserve his efforts for the two torpedo 



•27'2 COMMANIJKR RICHARD WAINWRIGHT. 

boat desL/oyers in the rear. The Gloucester steamed after them when 
they appeared, and chased them to a point five miles west of Morro 
pouring shot after shot into them all the time. Her efforts bore abund- 
ant fruit, for to her belongs the credit for the destruction of both of the 
destroyers. She fired 1400 shots during the chase, and it was not long 
before both destroyers were on fire and plainly disabled. 

Notwithstanding this, they both returned the Gloucester's fire, and 
a shower of small shells fell all around the yacht. The Furor evidently 
determined that she would not stand the fire any longer, and she put 
about and headed back for Santiago. Then the Gloucester simply 
smothered her with shots from her rapid-fire guns, and running like the 
wind, forced her to turn and again head westward. 

CREW TOOK TO THEIR BOATS. 

Smoke commenced to rise from the Furor's sides, and sht put in 
towards the shore. Before she had gone far, what was left of her crew 
abandoned her and took to the boats, reaching the shore later. By that 
time she was a mass of flame, and was drifting about helplessly. The 
Plutou was in the same distressed condition, and was also headed for the 
shore, running up alongside of a low bluff, where she soon pounded to 
pieces and finally broke in two completel}'. It was a most dangerous 
lauding place for her crew, and but abouthalf of them reached the shore 
alive. 

The Gloucester did not go any further west, but la}' off shore and 
sent a boat to the assistance of the crews of the destroyers. It did not 
take the flames long to reach the Furor's magazine, and there were two 
terrific explosions, probably of the gun-cotton aboard of her, which blew 
holes in her bottom. Her stern sunk immediately, and as it settled in 
the water her bow rose straight in the air and she went to the bottom in 
perpetual oblivion, giving out a hissing, scalding sound as she disap- 
peared below the surface. 

From his position on the bridge of the Gloucester Lieutenant-Com- 
mander Waiuwright watched the flames and smoke roariiig- throneh the 



COMMANDER RICHARD WAINWRIGHT. 273 

decks of the three greatest warships of the Spanish nav}-, which were 
soon to be reduced to nothing but shattered masts and twisted smoke- 
stacks protruding above the water. It was not strange, therefore, that he 
remarked to his brother officers beside him : " The Maine is avenged I " 
When the Pluton and the Furor sank the Gloucester's boat picked 
up as many of the survivors as she could find on the shore. The pris- 
oners of war included the captains of both boats. None offered an}^ 
resistance, and all were glad to go to the Gloucester, as they feared an 
attack from the Cubans. 

SAD FATE OF THE SPANISH ADMIRAL. 

Soon after Admiral Cervera reached the shore and surrendered he 
was taken to the Gloucester at his own request. There was no mis- 
taking the heartbroken expression upon his face as he took the proffered 
hand of Lieutenant-Commander Wainwright and was shown to the lat- 
ter's cabin, but he made ever)' effort to bear bravel3'the bitter defeat that 
had come to him. He thanked the captain of the Gloucester for the 
words of congratulation offered on the gallant fight, and then spoke 
earnestly of his solicitude for the safety of his men on shore. 

An eye-witness of the engagement says : "A most dramatic feature 
of the battle was the contest between the torpedo-boat destroyers and 
the Gloucester. The latter was struck several times, and is the only 
American vessel reported damaged. At first the Gloucester fired upon 
them with her six pounders, but they ran past her and engaged the bat- 
tleships. Finding the fire too hot, they turned and attacked the Glouces- 
ter again uutil both destroyers were afire and had to be beached. Their 
crews threw themselves into the surf to save their lives. Just before 
this the New York came up and assisted in giving the finishing blow to 
the destroyers. There was explosion after explosion from the beached 
vessels." 

Wainwright not only proved himself to be a dauntless fighter, but 

a co:isiderate and generous conqueror, and with a heart as tender as that 

of a woman. 
18 







CHAPTER XVII. 

JOAN OF ARC. 

RENOWNED MAID OF ORLEANS — HER RELIGIOUS 
ENTHUSIASM — LEADS AN ARMY AND GAINS VIC- 
TORIES — THWARTED BY HER ENEMIES — HER 
TRAGIC MARTYRDOM — MOST ILLUSTRIOUS OF 
THE HEROINES OF HISTORY. 

The writer of this history has often met the female peasants in the 
south of France riding to market, in a manner which may perhaps 
amuse the reader. They were dressed in white muslin caps, with very 
broad and full borders, flying back from tlie face. With these they wore 
long, gay-colored calico mantles, floating behind them in the wind. 

The\- were mounted on immense shaggy horses, stretching forth a 
stout limb horizontally from the pack-saddle on which they sat, along each 
side of the horse's neck. The feet and ankles were defended from the 
weather by wooden shoes and short scarlet stockings, the latter closely 
gartered round the calves of the legs, while the hem of the petticoat was 
tucked carefully under the garters, so as to secure the warmth of the 
knees, which must otherwise have remained uncovered. 

How these equestriennes could keep their seats in this awkward and 
insecure position while their horses trotted briskly along was matter of 
astonishment to the writer, until one of them good-humoredly explained 
the mystery by remarking that " habit makes all things easy." 

It is asserted that in former days females of every rank rode on 
horseback in a similar manner, and that it was not then considered 
either unfeminine or ungraceful. Whether this be true or not there 
was, at the period of which we write, one female, at least, whose 



I 



JOAN OF ARC. 275 

dexterity on horseback excited universal admiration, and became well 
worthy of record. She was a 3'ouug peasant girl of the province of 
Lorraine, who, to assist in supporting her parents, had hired with the 
proprietor of a small inn at a village called Domremy, where her chief 
employment was leading and sometimes riding, the horses of the inn- 
keeper to water. She was of perfectly irreproachable life and amiable 
character, possessing a degree of intellect which those around her had 
not acuteness to perceive, although it in general attracted the notice of 

travelers. 

A CONTEST BETWEEN KINGS. 

Her occupation, which afforded little or no scope for the improve- 
ment of her mind, had of late procured her honrl}' opportunities of 
hearing the current news of the day, and of learning all the reports 
which were at this time carried to and from the city of Orleans. Her 
ardent mind became inflamed with sentiments of pit}' for Charles VII., 
and interest in the siege on which his fate depended. At this time the 
rival factions of the Orleanists and Burgundians desolated France by 
their wars — the former supporting Charles VII. for the throne, and the 
atter Henry V., of England. 

The sufferings of the brave and loyal defenders of the town, and, 
above all, the distresses of their monarch, filled the maiden's thoughts by 
day, and influenced her dreams by night. She was seized with an 
enthusiastic desire to aid her sovereign in this, his extremity, and felt 
that, since hope was abandoned b}' all others, the voice of even such an 
humble individual as herself might possibly rouse the universal feeling 
of pity into a spirit of active exertion, calculated to serve his cause. 
.\t all events, her making the attempt could, she thought, do no injury. 

" A mouse once set a lion free ; 
A slave a king ; — then why not she ? " 

So argued this simple peasant girl, who probably imagined, like 
many wiser persons, that " all things are possible to those who think them 
so." What is there that an eager mind will not attempt? and what is 



276 JOAN OF ARC. 

there, indeed, which it may not achieve, if its ardor is wisely directed ? 
What pity, then, that wisdom and enthusiasm are so seldom found 
working together, hand in hand. The young person of whom we speak, 
from constantly ruminating on the subject of her sovereign's wrongs, 
at length began to feel that the desire with which her soul was filled had 
been kindled by divine inspiration, and that she was destined to become 
the means of effecting the deliverance of Charles VII. 

SETS OUT ON HER PERILOUS EXPEDITION. 

She foresaw all the peril that must attend her attempt, whether it 
should prove successful or otherwise ; but she felt within herself a 
degree of courage and intrepidity that told her she could, in such a cause, 
encounter any danger, endure _ any fatigue, and submit to every hard- 
ship and privation. She therefore cast away the diffidence attendant on 
her low station, as well as the timidity naturally belonging to her char- 
acter, and, unknown to any person, set out from Domremy, whence, 
making her way to Vaucouleurs, the nearest town of any note, she at 
once demanded an interview with the governor. 

Compliance with the demand was at first rudely refused, and the 
denial was positively and frequently repeated ; but she expected difficult}' 
and was not discouraged. Her unceasing and importunate solicitations 
at length obtained admission to the mayor, from whom she instantly 
entreated a safe conduct to the presence of her king, saying she had 
information to communicate to his private ear, which would reverse his 
present evil fortune, and place him securely on the throne of his 
ancestors. 

The governor, when at length induced to hearken to her strange 
assertion, perceiving that such an idea, however wild and visionary, 
might prove beneficial to Charles, by raising a superstitious confidence 
amongst his subjects, gave her, after some hesitation, the escort she 
required, and Joan d'Arc (for so the maid was called) forthwith set out, 
attended by a guard of soldiers, to the residence of the prince. Charles was 
then living iu retirement at Chiuou, where a note being delivered to him 



JOAN OF ARC. 277 

from the governor of Vaucouleurs, instantly procured our heroine 
admission to his presence. 

Nothing could exceed the astonishment of the king on seeing a 
young peasant girl ushered into his apartment, who stood for some time 
silently scrutinizing the company. So soon as she could summon 
courage to speak she fixed her eyes on Charles, and said that she was 
come by the appointment of Heaven to assist in raising the siege of 
Orleans, and that she would, when that achievement was effected, con- 
duct him to the city of Rheims, there to be crowned and anointed king 
of France. There was something in the dauntless manner, humble 
appearance, but still more in the wild assertion of this young person, 
that made it impossible for Charles, or those around him, to refuse her 
their attention ; nor could they, after she had withdrawn, dismiss from 
their minds the subject of her conversation. 

PRONOUNCED BY CLERGY A TRUE PROPHETESS. 

Knowing the character of the French people, they were struck with 
a conviction of the good effects which might result from her strange pre- 
dictions if, at the present momentous crisis of affairs, the}' should 
awaken hope, and inspire the disheartened soldiers with renewed 
courage. That greater publicitj' might be given to her prophecy, they 
expressed an entire disbelief of all she had uttered, but convened a 
council of learned clergy to examine her predictions, and declare 
whether or not she was to be considered a false prophetess, or one on 
whom the nation might with safety rely. 

The council immediatel}' met, and found it to their interest to say 
she was a true prophetess; and as stratagems are unhappily thought 
allowable in war, they publicly avowed their opinion that she was 
divinely inspired ; asserting that she had known the king amongst a 
number of other persons, although she had never before beheld him, and 
that she had mentioned several circumstances concerning his private 
life, such as she could only have discovered by inspiration. This put 
the question beyond doubt in tlie minds of the ignorant; but besides. 



27« JOAN OF ARC. 

she luid, it was reported, coniniandcd to be brought to her from the 
Chureh of St. Catherine de Fierbois, a certain sword which had laiu 
there unobserved for centuries, describing its marks and tokens, exactly' 
as it was found, and declaring that with that miraculous weapon she 
would lead the French to victory. 

Crowds of grave and learned men, who came to attend the council, 
left Chinon, either believing or pretending to believe, that she was an 
instrument in the hand of Heaven, destined to work out the deliverance 
of France. 

The people, hearing the rumors wliich were ailoat concerning the 
prophetess of Domremy, flocked to the king's standard, anxious to share 
in the glory of her enterprise. French and English, besieging and 
besieged, were alike excited and astonished by the story ; but while it 
encouraged the followers of Charles, it damped the ardor of the British 
soldiers ; and their commander saw with indignation and alarm, a spirit 
of superstitious dread taking place of the dauntless bravery, for which 
his troops had been hitherto distinguished. 

GAVE ORDERS IN THE NAME OF HEAVEN. 

Meantime Joan d'Arc was preparing alike for combat and conquest. 
Her first act was to send a letter to the generals who command the besieg- 
ing army, ordering them, in the name of the Great Being who held the 
fate of nations in His hands, to raise the siege of Orleans, and march 
quickl}- out of the kingdom, as the onlv method of saving themselves 
from divine wrath. 

The Duke of Bedford, commander of the British, and his of&cers, 
professed to deride, alike the maid, her letter, and her predictions ; say- 
ing, the affairs of Charles must be reduced to alow ebb, indeed, when he 
could confide in the assistance of such a champion. Some, however, 
amongst them, as well as the greater number of their soldiers, appeared 
strongly impressed with an idea that this extraordinar}' woman was 
appointed by Providence to place Charles on the throne. Bedford, alone, 
conlinued to repel the supposition, and felt incensed by the probability 



JOAN OF ARC. ■ 279 

that it might finally lead to the defeat of his troops, and to the destruc- 
tion of all those conquests which he had so nearly completed. He 
evinced the utmost contempt for the superstitious credulit}-, which 
appeared to be rapidly turning an armj^ of \eteran warriors into a lierd 
of timorous serfs ; and continued his schemes and operations exactly as 
if the maid of Domreray were not in existence. 

But our heroine felt similar contempt for his derision, and daunt- 
lessly hastened forward the work which she had begun. 

APPEARED ON A BEAUTIFUL BLACK HORSE. 

The friends and relatives, with recruits of every description, who 
daily crowded around her, were marshalled among the regular troops^ 
numbering in all 6,000, and on an appointed day, attended b\- two of her 
brothers, she appeared at their head, mounted on a beautiful black 
charger, ready to review them in person, in presence of the king. She 
was clad in the military costume of a knight, bearing in her hand the 
consecrated sword before mentioned ; and displa3-ing such skill and dex- 
terity in manoeuvring her soldiers, and managing her war horse that 
shouts of enthusiastic applause rent the air, as she passed before the 
people. 

Having ordered her men to confess themselves, according to the 
Catholic faith, before their departure on the intended enterprise, she set 
out on her march, towards the town of Blois, attended by her attached 
brothers, who never afterwards forsook her. At this town a convoy, with 
provisions for the suffering inhabitants of Orleans, had been long wait- 
ing for some leader, possessed of sufficient hardihood to conduct it past 
the redoubts of the besieging army. But the convoy, it is believed, 
might have remained there until now (so great was the terror of the 
English arms) had not the heroine, with her miraculous sword and con- 
secrated standard arrived, and volunteered to lead it forward. 

Meantime the people within the walls were reduced to a state of 
famine, which made a speedy death, even by the sword of their enemies, 
appear preferable to the lingering tortures they had long endured. 



2sn JOAN OF ARC. 

Numbers had sunk under disease and want, and the day, nay the 
hour, was approaching, when the exhausted survivors must be compelled 
to open their gates, and throw themselves on the mercy of their con- 
querors. Rumors now, however, reached them through some chance 
stragglers who had escaped the vigilance of their foes, telling of a mys- 
terious prophetess, who was coming herself to set them free. The 
dreaded hour of capitulation was, therefore, delayed. The watchmen on 
the towers forgot the agonizing pangs of hunger, whilst, gazing beyond 
the redoubts of the enemy, they hoped to descry some signs of the prom- 
ised deliverer; but days passed on, and no such liberator appeared. 

At length, on one side of the city, were heard sounds of war ; and 
at a short distance from their outposts, the English observed a formidable 
force, hastening to attack them. 

ARRIVAL OF TROOPS AT A CRITICAL MOMENT. 

As many troops as could be spared were immediately collected by 
Bedford, from the bridge, and from all the surrounding intrenchments, 
and everj' preparation was quickly made for battle. The attack com- 
menced, and was received bv the English with their accustomed bravery, 
which, through the exertions of their geueral, appeared likely to be 
crowned with complete victory ; but whilst the anxious inhabitants 
watched from the ramparts the issue of this engagement, terrified by the 
rapid success of their foes, they descried a bod}^ of French troops 
approaching the town from an opposite quarter, covering a small squad- 
ron of boats, which stole quietly up the river, almost within gunshot of 
the fortifications on the bridge. 

The detachment bj^ whom the little fleet was guarded, placed itself 
in battle array on the river's bank ; whilst a female, standing erect in 
the foremost boat, carrying in one hand a glittering sword, and with the 
other waving a standard before her followers, conducted her little train 
of vessels to the opposite shore ; and even within sight of the enemy, 
boldly disembarked her troops and provisions. 

The garrison, within the towers of the bridge, looked with astonish- 



JOAN OF ARC. 281 

ment on the scene; and reduced as they were in number, dared not quit 
the fortifications which the French stood ready to seize, should their 
troops move forward to intercept the supplies. 

Even Lord Suffolk himself, the hitherto intrepid and successful 
defender of the bridge, viewed with surprise, not unmingled with admira- 
tion, the progress of this little party and the dauntless bearing of its 
female leader; appearing to be at length struck with the common belief, 
that she was led forward under divine guidance. The passage of the 
river was made good. The troops and provisions disembarked, and then 
headed b}' their inspired conductress, the detachment marched straight 
forward to the city and appeared ready to enter. 

MARCHED THROUGH THE GATES IN SAFETY. 

Those gates which the inhabitants apprehended must be opened 
to admit the enemj^, were now, in trembling silence, cautiously un- 
barred, and the Maid of Orleans, for so from this moment she was 
named, with her entire convo}^, entered in safety. The gates were 
once more closed, the bars drawn, and, as they shut in the last soldier 
of the escort, a shout of exultation burst like a peal of thunder, within 
the walls; even the sick and dying lending their feeble voices to assist 
in that triumphant cry, the sound of which brought hope and joy to 
each and every desponding heart. Every bell in the city was instantly 
in motion, and the tumultuous clang of triumph and rejoicing was 
carried even to the ears of the besiegers, increasing their mortifica- 
tion, and seeming to assure them that their day of victor}^ was hastening 
to its close. 

The provisions, which had been introduced to the town, would now, 
they knew, enable the garrison to hold out for a protracted length of 
time; and their augmented terror confirmed their belief that the 
enchantress, who had hitherto achieved such wonders, was raised up for 
the utter destruction of the English. The relief to the inhabitants of 
Orleans, therefore, was doubly advantageous to the cause of the French 
king ; and even the supply of provisions was lightly regarded by the 



282 JOAX OF ARC. 

famishing garrison, in comparison with tlie joy of having their miracu- 
lous protectress safely enclosed within their walls. 

From this moment the state of the contending parties appeared 
reversed; and already the former conquerors were looked upon as con 
quered. But there was still much to be done; and our bold enthusiast 
hourly confirmed in the belief that she was protected by the hand ( 1 
Heaven, felt eager to meet her enemies in the field. 

She delayed only for a short time to let the garrison gather strength : 
and then, collecting around her all who were able for the enterprise, 
made a vigorous sally from the walls, and bravely attacked the English 
intrechments. One of tlie strongest forts was seized without resistance, 
the terrified soldiers having scarceh^ ventured to strike a blow in their 
own defence, and the garrison was brought captive to Orleans, increasing 
the exultation of its inhabitants. 

CAME TO REGARD HER AS INVINCIBLE. 

After these repeated successes, both the followers and adversarie.-. 
of the warlike maiden considered her invincible ; and the strength and 
courage of the English diminished as rapidly as that of the French in 
creased. 

Her next exploit was to attack the fortifications on the bridge, as 
possession of that pass was indispensable to her final success. These 
were, therefore, boldly assailed, but not so easily captured. The Duke 
of Bedford before obeying a new and mortifying summons to depart for 
England, had hastened to the spot, and endeavored to revive the drooping 
courage of his troops, by promising to lead them in person once more to 
victor3\ Through his exertions, the French were driven back, and their 
valiant conductress forced for a short time to retire ; but, knowing that 
the slightest reverse of fortune would cancel all her claims to invincibil- 
ity, she returned ; and standing alone, waving her sacred banner in the 
air, besought her flying troops to renew the charge. Her glowing 
countenance, animated gestures, and vehement exhortations, recalled ll.e 
renegades ; they reuew^ed the attack ; and emulating the courage of their 




JOAN Ul ARC Al' rilH STORMING Ol- ORLEANS. 



283 



•;S1 JOAN OF ARC. 

all-couqucring leader, rushed with such impetuosity upon the English, 
that they were on the point of carrying the day when an arrow, which 
liad been aimed at Joan by one of the English archers, struck her in the 
neck and compelled her to stay her course. 

All seemed now lost ! Those who observed the disaster stood still in 
despair ; but, seeming completely to despise the accident, she com 
manded the officers who stood near her to advance and lead their com- 
panions to victory, declaring she would make but an instant's delay, and 
speedily overtake them. She then retired a few paces, pulled out the 
arrow with her own hand, had the blood staunched, and, remounting her 
horse, galloped back to her troops, just in time to plant her sacred 
standard on the ramparts of the captured fortress, which now afforded 
all the friends of Charles free access to the town. 

RAPTURE AT THE DECISIVE VICTORY. 

How shall we describe tlie rapture of the citizens at this decisive 
victory ? The Duke of Bedford conquered in person, the bridge laid 
open, the town no longer surrounded, and its inhabitants free ! It was 
not with shouts of applause that Joan was welcomed back at this her 
third entrance ; it was rather with the silent homage of reverential awe, 
which the}' considered due to a supernatural power. 

The English had lost in these engagements above six thousand men ; 
and what was still more fatal to their cause, the survivors appeared 
entirel}' deprived of that intrepid hardihood for which they had been so 
long renowned. None of the generals had the slightest power to revive 
their courage, except the Duke of Bedford himself ; and, as if to sink 
the troops still deeper in despondency, he was, at this moment of theii 
utmost need, called away from them to England on some frivolous pre- 
tense. 

Lord Suffolk, who was left in the command, whilst endeavoring to 
combat their credulity, felt unable to deny the various proofs which his 
mn brought forward, of the maiden being guided by supernatural power. 
Nor did his declaration that, if so, she must be aided by a diabolical, not 



JOAN OF ARC. 285 

a divine spirit, tend to restore their courage or dispel their superstitious 
forebodings ; since they naturally replied that the chastenings of a benev- 
olent being would be greatly preferable to the persecutions of a mali- 
cious one. 

Perceiving that it was vain any longer to oppose a feeling which was 
likely to bring destruction on the entire army, Suffolk determined to raise 
the siege, and, in the dead of night, commenced a retreat. 

GATES OPEN AND ENEMY IN FULL RETREAT. 

He was immediatel}' followed, and driven from the walls b}- the 
maid of Domremy. "Behold my first prophesy fulfilled! " she exclaimed, 
on returning with her victorious forces, after chasing the besiegers to a 
considerable distance. "Did I not say that I would raise this siege, and 
put to flight the enemies of my country? Now, if there be no iiuneces- 
sary delay, I will with equal certainty fulfil my second prediction, and 
have my prince crowned at the city of Rheims with the honors due to a 
sovereign of France. " 

But improbable as the recapture of Orleans had once appeared, this 
new undertaking seemed still less probable ; for Rheims, which stood at 
a considerable distance, was in the hands of an exasperated eneni}-, who 
occupied the entire country, and could with ease defend ever}' road or 
pass which led to it against the comparatively small force which Joan 
commanded. Nothing, however, seemed to her now impossible. She 
immediately urged Charles to commence the enterprise, and he being 
resolved to follow her wishes in all respects, very soon set forward on the 
expedition. Their army consisted of twelve thousand men, who were 
prepared to fight their passage through every danger and difficulty. But 
difficulty and danger seemed to fly before them. 

On approaching the first garrison town, whicli thej' had intended to 
besiege, it instantly threw open the gates and surrendered to Charles as 
its lawful sovereign. i\.ll the cities along their line of march followed 
this example, and long before his arrival at Rheims, ambassadoi-s came 
to inform him that the gates were open, that his enemies had fled, and 



288 JOAN OF ARC. 

that every preparation was already made for his coronation in that 

sacred place. 

Arrived in safety within its walls, the ceremony was in a short 

time completed. 
During its per 
formance the Maid 
of Orleans stood 
b}' the side of her 
^youthful monarch, 
clad in a shining 
armor, and still 
bearing the sacred 
standard, which 
she at times tri- 
umphantly waved 
over his head, at- 
tracting, by her 
gestures and ap- 
pearance, more at- 
tention than was 
best«wed on the 
sovereign himself. 
The spectators, 
as the}' surve3-ed 
this scene, which 
had been produced 
by such a train of 
wonders, rent the 
air with acclama- 
CORONATION OF CH.'XRLEs \'li. tions, and believed 

that no recompense would be too great for her who had achieved them ; 

but nothing was further from her own thoughts than the idea of reward. 

Tlie awful and impressive ceremonj- had scarelv ended, when, the natural 




JOAN OF ARC. 287 

feelings of her sex overcoming her assumed character, she burst into a 
violent flood of tears. 

Flinging herself on the ground, and embracing her sovereign's 
l<nees, she thanked Heaven that Iier prophecy had been so happily 
accomplished, and that she had been made instrumental in its fulfil- 
ment, declaring that since her wishes for his success were now fully 
achieved, she had no other desire than to return to her family and 
resume her former humble and peaceful mode of life. Having in this 
manner taken leave of Charles and solicited permission to depart, she 
withdrew from the assembly and prepared with her brothers to rejoin 
their affectionate and anxious parents. 

PENSION AND PATENT OF NOBILITY. 

But the newly crowned king, desiring that she should remain in 
his camp to establish the throne on which she had placed him, persuaded 
her to accept a large pension and patent of nobility for herself and family 
and continue in his service. All generous and noble-minded persons 
rejoiced at her having obtained a reward, which they considered due to 
her important services ; but the generals of the arm}^, and many persons 
of rank and distinction in the country, began to wish that the renown of 
their achievements had equalled that of this poor peasant girl, and to 
envy her, not only the fame of her exploits, which had now spread over 
every country of Europe, but also the fortune which her merits had 
prociired. 

The British continued the conflict and the Duke of Bedford had 
Henry V. crowned king at Paris. Following the advice of Joan, Charles 
marched his army to the entrance of the metropolis, and stopped on the 
heights of Moutmartre to demand admission, offering at the same time, 
in return for the expected compliance, a free pardon to the inhabitants 
f(jr all former offences against his crown. But the friendly summons was 
unheeded, and the king was unwillingly obliged to commence an attack. 
After four hours of unsuccessful assault, Charles, feeling mortified and 
disappointed at meeting with such determined resistance where he had 



288 JOAN OF ARC. 

expected immediate submission, once more witlidrew his troops iuto 
a place of safety. 

In retiring it was observed that Joan was nowhere to be found, and it 
was now reported that she had not been seen since the commencement of 
the attack. Search was made for her and at length she was discovered, 
Ij'iug dangerously wounded in one of the trenches where she had 
remained unheeded during the entire battle, having been knocked down 
by the first fire and left to her perilous fate. 

SOON RECOVERED FROM HER WOUND. 

She was carried safely to Bourges, a town in the neighborhood where 
the king resolved to pass the winter ; and where she soon recovered from 
her wound; but her influence over the soldiery was greatly diminished. 
The}' had latterly observed that she was liable to misfortunes, and sub- 
ject to mistakes and errors like other persons. Her former services, 
therefore, .began to be undervalued and forgotten. Each soldier, on look- 
ing back to past events, recollected some share of merit which he thought 
he might claim to himself, and the generals especially felt an hourly 
increasing jealousy of the fame which Joau had acquired. To trj'-, 
however, what use could still be made of her remaining infliieuce over 
distant parts of the arm}-, Charles, by the advice of his most experienced 
officers, sent her to the relief of Compeigne, a town then closely besieged 
by the Duke of Burgundy and already in such extremity that it was 
daily expected to surrender. Here, it was hoped, she might still exert 
some influence; and on her approach to the cit^^ the inhabitants, finding 
that she was coming to their succor, felt sure of deliverance. She 
hastened forward uuperceived to one of the outposts of the town expect- 
ing to take it by surprise, but just as she imagined herself on the point 
of effecting her purpose, she was in her turn surprised by a party 
of the besiegers, who assailed her troops with such determined spirit 
that the whole body, including her hitherto intrepid brothers, were 
quickly put to flight. 

Her officers, jealous of her fame, made, it was believed, no exertion to 



JOAN OF ARC. 289 

recall their men; but Joau, desperate from the near prospect of defeat, 
stood to her post, bravely iirgiug the troops to turn on their pursuers. 
Her efforts were, however, vain. Au archer, seeing her stand alone in 
her bold attempt to rally, rushed forward and made her prisoner. 
Having seized her horse by the bridle, he rudely pulled lier to the 
ground and carried her to the tent of his commanding officer. At sight 
of her capture, the triumphant shouts of the whole besieging army 
announced to the besieged that their expected deliverer was a captive. 

The Duke of Bedford, as stated in a former chapter, had for a length 
of time eagerly desired to make the Maid of Orleans his prisoner. The 
xinfortunate captive was purchased by him from the officer, into whose 
hand she had fallen ; and was kept in close confinement for several 
weeks, whilst debates were held throughout the army as to the manner 
in which it would be expedient to treat her. 

HER SP;:.ENDID ACHIEVEMENTS. 

What her feelings must have been during that period, may easily 
be imagined. At one moment, reflecting on all that she had achieved for 
her king and country, she felt aware that if ever monarch had been 
indebted to a subject for his crown, Charles VH. was that king. She 
had roused his people from their terror of the English arms, had taught 
them to conquer, and had established the kingdom firmly in his hands 
even when that kingdom had seemed irretrievably lost. Sural}', then, 
not only he, but the nation at large, would purchase her redemption at any 
price. Months, however, passed away, and no ransom was offered ; no 
effort made to set her at liberty ; no exertion attempted even to soften 
the severity of her confinement, until, at length, it became evident that 
she was already forgotten. 

'' Now that my services have accomplished their object," sighed she 
in the solitude of her prison, " I am no longer needed, no longer thou;^ht 
of The French commanders, with their new monarch at their head, felt 
perhaps well pleased to have a low-born peasant girl confined, where her 
actions can never again tarnish the glory of their achievements." 

19 



290 JOAN OI'' ARC. 

Then followed a hopeless desire to see the two beloved brothers who 
had attended and protected her through all the snares and dangers of 
her military career ; to behold once more her humble home, to embrace 
her affectionate parents! What would she not now have given that she 
had gone back to them at the moment when her conscience first warned 
her to pursue that course. Why, why had she not fled from tempta- 
tion and returned to her home, happy in the accomplisment of her first 
project? But regrets were now unavailing ; neither brother nor parent 
could gain admittance to her prison, and it was plain that she was inten- 
tionally left to her fate. 
What that fate was likely 
to become was a question 
^ which now rose with in- 

M ' " -3^»* 1 /«- <' t^ ^'1 opinion that the king, 

on -whom she had con- 
ferred so many benefits, 
would not in the end for- 
sike her, and that the 
nation would never leave 
htrto perish, took posses- 
sion of her imagination. 
Again, she was assailed 
with the desire of inspiring a belief that she was divinely taught. When 
questioned on the subject in her prison, she continued to assert that she 
was indeed an appointed minister of the Almighty, and that she had been 
often favored in her solitary cell by visits from his angels, who brought 
her the revelations of his will. 

The Bishop of Beauvois, her own countryman, who was in league 
with the British, on pretence that she had used the arts of magical incan- 
tation, falsehood, and enchantment within his diocese, presented a peti- 
tion to the Duke of Bedford, desiring to have his prisoner tried as a 
sorceress. A council of inquiry was immediately opened in the city of 




L'\Sl I 1 Ol KDl 1 \ 



JOAN OF ARC. 



291 



Rouen, where tlie little Englisli king then held his court, at which a great 
number of French prelates, together with one English bishop, whose 
name we should blush to mention, were appointed to act as her accusers 
aud judges. 

Far from being dismayed at these proceedings, the Maid of Orleans 





Vf- 


/^-* 


l_ 


,— * " 




•^ — ^ 







ROUEN, Till: OLIJ CAl'IlAL OF N\>R.M.-\NDY. 

now hoped that the hour of her emancipation was drawing rapidly near. 
What, she exclaimed, had she to fear? If justice had its course, there 
was no possible chance of her being condemued, since the entire tenor of 
her conduct towards France merited reward, not punishment. Under 
this impression the enthusiast hailed rather than lamented the approach 
of the day which was announced for the commencement of her trial. 

The day of trial at length arrived, and multitudes of both French 



2.)2 JOAN OF ARC. 

and English assembled to hear the examination and witness the deport- 
ment of the Maid of Orleans. The court was seated, and all things 
solemnly prepared ; guards were sent to the prison, with directions to 
clothe the prisoner 
in the male attire 
which she had her- 
self voluntarily 
adopted, and to 
bring her in armor, 
but loaded with 
chains, through the 
public streets for 
the purpose of let- 
ting the populace 
behold her degra- 
dation. 

The court was 
in session sixteen 
days. On the 
charge of wearing 
male attire, and 
other offences 
equally frivolous, 
as well as on the 
charge of profane- 
ness and hypocrisy 
in declaring she 
was divinely com- 
missioned to de- MARTYRDOM OF JOAN OF ARC. 
liver her countiy, she was convicted and sentenced to be executed. 
Her queenly bearing and invincible courage made no impression on her 
foes, who had prejudged her, and, in their own minds, had already pro- 
nounced her a heretic. As such, her fate was decreed. 




JOAN OF ARC. 293 

Her answers to the charges brought against her were laid before the 
University of Paris, and condemnation was pronounced against her as a 
servant of the evil spirit, who by impious inventions and pretended 
revelations had deluded the people and injured the cause of religion. 
For these foul crimes, as her warrant said, she was sentenced b}' the 
Romish Cliurch to be burned at the stake in the market square of Rouen. 

The fanciful persuasion of her being an inspired person again took 
possession of her mind. Even when she was led forth from the prison 
to the place of execution, and saw the awful preparations complete, and 
the people whom she had delivered assembled in crowds to witness her 
deatli, the certain expectation that a heavenly deliverer would be sent 
to her rescue upheld and comforted her to the last ; thus in some degree 
frustrating the determined malice of her enemies. 

CALM AND RESOLUTE WHEN BOUND TO THE STAKE. 

Thougli bound to the stake she was mild and quiescent as a lamb 
from the same happy belief ; and it was not until the flames began to 
envelope her person that she became sensible of her situation. At 
length they gathered closely around her, and at that awful moment the 
spectators heard her, while she grasped her criicifix, calling fervently 
on her Redeemer for intercession and pardon. 

Amongst the friends and relatives of the Maid of Orleans, sorrow 
for her untimely loss seems to have been swallowed up by grief and 
shame at the stigma affixed upon her memory, and b)- indignation at 
her unmerited condemnation and inhuman execution. Her brothers 
and her widowed mother loudU' appealed against the decision of the 
University of Paris, and never relaxed their efforts at Rome until the 
case was brought before the Ecclesiastical Court for reconsideration. 
Twenty -five years after her execution, Calixtus re-examined the charges 
on which she had been condemned, when the judgment was reversed, 
and the injustice of the sentence under which she had suffered openly 
declared. 

Joan was born in 141 1, and was crowned a martyr May 31st, 1431. 



:^i^l):&,M^W;;v!; 



lilf¥Jlili 




CHAPTER XVIII. 

^ GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

HERO OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION — DUTIFUL 
AN'D AFFECTIONATE SON — CALM AND RESOLUTE 
IN DANGER — COMMANDER OF THE AMERICAN 
ARMY — LEADER IN THE GREAT STRUGGLE FOR 
FREEDOM AND INDEPENDENCE — FIRST PRESIDENT 
— FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY. 

George Washington was born in Virginia, at the family homestead 
on Bridges Creek, on the 2 2d of February in the year 1732. He was the 
second son of Augustine and Mary Washington. George was the eldest 
son of his mother, but there had been two children by his father's first 
wife : Laurence and Agustine. Many of Washington's biographers 
have written scores of pages to show that he was descended from a line 
of noble knights and gallant cavaliers. But the truth is that very little 
has been certainly proved, except that his family had been of some con- 
sequence in England, and tbat two brothers, John and Andreas Wash- 
ington, bought land and settled in Westmoreland Coiinty, Virginia, in 

1657- 

The boy George had as good schooling as could be obtained in the 
neighborhood, and at an early age acquired a fair knowledge of the usual 
branches of learning to be obtained at a common schiool. Laurence, his 
elder brother, had been educated in England, and notwithstanding the 
.disparity in their ages they became very fond of eacli other. Laurence 
accompanied the English Admiral Vernon on an expedition to the West 
India Islands. He had a position as captain in the arm}-, and behaved 
very creditably both in camp and under fire. It is possible that his 
brothers service as a soldier may have influenced George's future 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 2'.I5 

career. Still it required no prompting to make a man a soldier in the 
stirring times in which the young Washington lived. 

It was fortunate not only for George Washington, but for his country, 
that at his father's death he was left, iu common with the other children, 
to the exclusive care and control of his mother, Mary. Never had a son 
a better mother. As he was now about eleven, he was just at an age in 
which the seeds of rectitude and religion could well be planted in his 
heart, and his good parent had both the abilit^y and the disposition to 
prepare him to fill any station in life with honor. The intention of the 
famil}' was to give George such an education as would enable him to 
occupv the position of a first-class man of affairs. Consequently, a col- 
legiate course was not attempted ; but as far as reading, arithmetic, 
writing, and other branches in the line of the useful were concerned, lie 
was thoroughly instructed and was fully competent. 

EDUCATION SUCH AS HE NEEDED. 

Indeed the knowledge of accounts, of bookkeeping, commercial 
letter-writing, and similar lines were of vast use to him when he came to 
scan the bills of paymasters, commissaries, and the like. Through his 
brother, Laurence, who held both a business and a social relation to the 
rich Fairfax family of Virginia, George became quite intimate with its 
various members, who lived in princeh' style at their seat of Belvoir, on 
the River Potomac, at a little distance from the since famous Mount 
Vei'non. 

The vouthful Washington made himself perfect in the art of survey- 
ing land. From the wild, inaccurate way iu which patents of thousands 
of acres of rich laud had been given or sold, it had become very important 
that metes and bounds should be set ; consequently, the services of a 
competent and reliable surveyor were iu great demand, and he obtained 
a profitable situation as surveyor and manager to the opulent William 
Fairfax. 

vSoon, too. Lord Fairfax, becoming cognizant of his ability and in- 
tegrity, emploj^ed him in surveying his extensive estates on the far side 



290 



GEORCr: WASHINGTON. 



of tlie Blue Ridge, as that persevering race, the American squatter, was 
alread}' making a home iu the ricli domain. This was his earliest 
plunge into the forest wilds. Although not yet in his eighteenth year, 
he so successfully carried out his instructions that on his return he 
received paj' at the rate of sixteen dollars a day. 

No 3^outh was better fitted for the dangerous, exacting, but, to one 

of his nature, pleasantly exciting 
duties, than was the young sur- 
veyor. Day after day, and often 
night after night, he traversed 
that goodly laud, now the abode 
(f niate.ial wealth and great pop- 
ulations ; then sparsely in- 
habited by a few solitary 
liunters or wondering sav- 
ages. Often for hundreds of 
miles he had to blaze a path 
for himself if he wished to 
return the same way. Some- 
times for hours, or maybe for 
whole da3-s, he would be as- 
cending mountains, or almost 
GEORGE WASHING! OM. sliding down declivities, or 

swimming rivers "where ford there was none," living on the plainest 
and scantiest fare. 

Occasiouallv the hard climbing would be varied by wading 
through morasses, or breaking a way through tangled briers and thorns. 
When night came his fitful slumbers would be rudely broken by the 
screech of the wild cat, or the blood-curdling cry of the panther, or the 
weird and mournful shriek of the great owl. Often it would be impossible 
to get even the semblance of repose ; for at times darkness and storms 
would t)vertake the undaunted young surveyor where the wet soil woitld 
render it impossible to get dry branches to nuike even a pretence for a 




GEORGE WASHINGTON. 297 

bed. Then, when to advance was dangerous, and to retrace his steps 
impossible, he would fall into restless slumbers, leaning on the shoulders 
of his tractable and faithful borse, until the first streak of dawn would 
sufficiently lighten the gloomy hemlocks to enable him to continue on 
his pathless course. Not one man in ten thousand would have perse- 
vered in such a career. Scarcely ever did twent}^-four hours pass in 
which he was not face to face with death. 

But even then, in his almost boysh days, he had oue talismanic 
word, '' Duty," and to that he conformed. Little he thought, in these 
long, solitary marches, of the high destinies that awaited him in the by 
no means distant future. But that Providence which " shapes our ends 
rough-hew them as we may," was doubtless even then toughening the 
sinews and hardening the muscles that were to stand the strain of the 
battles of Long Island and Monmouth. He was about this time appointed 
a public survevor, a position at once of trust and profit. 

A MASTER OF MILITARY STRATEGY. 

While still quite j-ounghis native province had called for his martial 
services, and he had cheerfully responded, and while acting as aide-de- 
camp to the British general he evinced such a knowledge of strategy as 
is seldom found in so youthful an officer. Before the action he gave his 
gallant but over-courageous commander such advice as would have saved, 
had it been heeded, the army from defeat and the general from death. 
Washington recommended that the woods in front of them should be 
carefully searched by scouts before the main advance of the army entered 
them. This wholesome advice was disregarded, with the fatal result 
that the large vanguard of the British was suddenU^ assailed by a fierce 
shower of bullets from the muskets of the French and their numerous 
Indian allies. 

General Braddock and a large number of his officers and men were 
slain, as they were thus surprised and thrown into disorder. Indeed, 
that the defeat had not been turned into a total rout was mainly owing 
to the skill, bravery, and judgment displa\'ed by the young Virginian, 



2i).S GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

who covered the retreat with his provincials, and occasionally tnrned 
upon the pursuing French troops. This battle occurred in the year 1755, 4 
when Washington was but twenty-three years of age. ^ 

In the 3-ear 1752, Laxirence Washington died, having in vain tried 
the West Indies to cure him of consumption. George had accom- | 
panied his brother on the voyage, but having to return to Virginia, he ' 
left Laurence, who proceeded to the island of Bermuda, but soon returned 




DlbAbiKULb Uh.lt\l oi- t,LiNLKAL bkAUDOl k 

to die at home, in the thirty-fourth year of his age. He left his wife 
and only daughter to the care of George. His will directed that Mount 
Vernon should, in case of the demise of the daughter before she was of 
age, go to his widow, and at her death become the property of George. 
Although he had but just passed his majority he fulfilled liis task as 
executor with great judgment and fidelit}-. 

A singular incident, exemplifying the modest nature of this great 
man, occurred when he first entered the House of Burgesses, the title 
given to the popular assembly in Virginia. Mr. Speaker rose, and in 



GKORGE WASHINGTON. 



299 



the name of the House thanked him for the eminent services he had 
performed for his province. Reluctantly rising the brave soldier, who 
could calmly face a blazing battery, stiittered, blushing like a young maid, 
and in vain essaj'ed to utter a word. The Speaker happily remarked : 
" Mr. Washington, please be seated. Your modesty equals 3'our valor, 
aud that surpasses the power of any language I possess." 

On the loth of May, 1775, the second Continental Congress met at 









INLtPENDENCE HALL, PHILADELPHIA. 
Philadelphia. The proceedings of this bod}^ were moderate and delib- 
erate. A petition to the king was drawn up and forwarded to England, 
denying any intention to separate from Great Britain, and asking only 
for redress of the wrongs of which the colonies complained. A federal 
union of the colonies was formed, and Congress assumed and exercised 
the general government of the country. Measures were taken to estab- 
lish an army, to procure military supplies, and to provide a navy. A 
loan of $2,000,000 was authorized, aud the faith of the " united colonies " 



300 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

pledged for its redemption. The troops before Boston were organized as 
a Continental army and were placed under the control of Congress. 
Washington, then a member of Congres, was appointed commander-in- 
chief of this army. As soon as he received his commission he set out 
for the army. 

Washington reached the army before Boston a few days after the 
battle of Bunker Hill, and at once assumed the command. By extraor- 
dinar}' exertions he succeeded in bringing the force to a tolerably 
effective condition. Boston was regularly invested, and the siege was 
pressed with vigor. On the 4th of March, 1776, Washington seized and 
fortified Dorchester Heights, overlooking and commanding the town and 
harbor from the south.- The city being thus 
rendered untenable, the British were forced to 
evacuate it, which they did on the 17th of 
March, and sailed for Halifax. 

In the meantime a force had been sent to 
invade Canada from two points, under General 
Richard Montgomery and Colonel Benedict 
Arnold. The principal event of the invasion was an attack upon Quebec 
by the forces of Montgomery and Arnold. It was unsuccessful. Mont- 
gomery was killed, and Arnold, who succeeded to the command, was 
wounded and was forced to retreat. The expedition accomplished nothing 
of permanent value, and Vv'as compelled to return to the colonies after 
suffering great losses and many hardships. 

A British fleet attacked and burned Falmouth (now Portland), in 
Maine, and committed many outrages on the coast of Virginia. A 
powerful fleet, under Sir Peter Parker, attacked Fort Moultrie, in the 
harbor of Charleston, South Carolina, for the purpose of forcing its way 
to that city. It was repulsed with heavy loss, June 2<Sth, 1776. During 
the year 1776 the Americans sent out several cruisers, which captured a 
number of British vessels laden with stores for their army. These 
captures enabled Washington to do much towards equipping the force 
under his command. 




GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



301 



Congress took measures for tbe active prosecution of the war. Sup- 
plies were drawn from the West Indies ; powder mills and cannon 
foundries were provided for on a small scale ; thirteen frigates were 
ordered to be constructed (a few of which eventually got to sea) ; a com- 
mittee of war, one of finance and a secret committee, to which was 
intrusted the negotiations of the colonies with foreign powers and per- 
sons abroad friendly to the cause, were appointed. Finall}-, on the 4tli 
of July, 1776, Con-gress adopted, on behalf of the colonies, a declaration 

of independence of the British crown. 
The colonies now took their stand as 
free and independent States. At the 
same time a plan for the general govern- 
ment of the United States, known as the 
Articles of Confederation, was adopted. 
x'Vs he supposed that the British 
would attack New York, Washington 
transferred his army to that place im- 
mediately after his occupation of Boston. 
He had not long to wait, for General 
Howe soon arrived in New York bay 
with his army, and in June was joined 
^^'='^^^' by his brother. Admiral Lord Howe, 
with reinforcements and a strong fleet. 
The British army now numbered 30,000 men, a large part of whom were 
Hessian troops, hired from the government of Hesse-Cassel, in German}', 
b}- the king of England. The troops were landed on Staten Island, and 
preparations were made for attacking the city of New York. Before 
proceeding to hostilities Lord Howe issued a proclamation to the people 
of America, offering a free pardon to all who would lay down their arms 
and accept the king's clemency. The proclamation produced no effect 
whatever, for the Americans were convinced that the}- could expect but 
a poor regard for their rights and liberties at the hands of King George. 
Washington's force was vastly inferior to that of the enemy. He 




S02 GICORGK WASHINGTON. 

was compelled to divide it, and to place a portion of it on Long 
Island, in order to cover the approaches to New York City. The force 
on Long Island was attacked and defeated by the Britisli on the 27th of 
August, 1776. By a skilful retreat on the night of the 29th, Washington 
withdrew his troops from Long Island to New York. Howe was greatly 
mortified at the escape of the Americans, and prepared to shut them up 
and capture them in New York, but Washington withdrew from that 
city and retreated to the mainland. After some indecisive encounters, 
the American army crossed the Hudson into New Jersey. The British 
followed up their success, and Washington was obliged to abandon the 
Hudson and retreat across New Jersey to the Delaware, which he crossed 
near Trenton. He halted in Pennsylvania, and the British made no 
effort to pass the river, unwilling to risk the chances. 

THE AMERICAN CAUSE NOW GLOOMY. 

The American cause now seemed gloomy indeed. New York and 
New Jersey were lost to the patriots, and Washington had with him in 
Pennsylvania onl}^ 4000 half starved and badly clothed men. The 
British had by this time taken possession of the island of Rhode Island, 
and had made a descent upon Baskingridge, New Jerse)% and had cap- 
tured General Charles Lee. B3' December, 1776, the cause of the colo- 
nies seemed so desperate that the people generally began to abandon the 
hope of success, and manj^ of them commenced to make their peace with 
the royal authorities. 

At this hour, when everj'tliing was so gloomy, Washington was 
calm and hopeful. He had expected reverses, and they did not dismay 
him. He was resolved to maintain the struggle to the last possible 
moment, and exerted himself to cheer the little band of heroes who 
remained faithful to the cause. Feeling that the situation of affairs 
demanded some decisive action on his part, he determined to attack and 
drive back the Hessians who constituted the advanced guard of the 
British army, and who occupied an exposed position on the Delaware, 
between Trenton and Burlington. He crossed the Delaware with a 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



303 



portiou of his army, in open boats, in the midst of snow and floating ice, 
on the night of December 25th, 1776, and about eight o'clock on the 
morning of the 26th attacked the Hessians at Trenton and defeated 




WASHINGTON CALLS ON CoLOM.L RAUL 
them. He took 1000 prisoners, looo stand of arms, six brass cannon 
and four standards. 

On the night of the 26th, he recrossed the Delaware and returned to 
his camp in Pennsylvania. A few days later, having received a small 
reinforcement, Washington crossed the Delaware once more, and took 



304 



GKORGE WASHINGTON. 



position at Trenton. General Howe hurried a force of 7000 men, under 
Lord Cornwallis, towards Trenton to crush Washington's army. By a 
brilliant march around the British left, Washington eluded Cornwallis 
and hurried towards New Brunswick to seize the stores of the 
British army. On the third of January, 1777, while on the march, he 
defeated a strong British force at Princeton. He abandoned his 




WASHIXGTON-S QUARTERS AT MOKKliJTUWiN, NEW JERSEY, 
movement on New Brunswick, and marched to Morristown, where he 
went into winter quarters with his army. He was so active during the 
winter that the British confined themselves to the shores of Raritan 
bay, and did not venture again into the interior of the State. 

The victories of the American army were so brilliant and audacious 
that the}' not only startled the British, who had believed the war 
virtually over in the north, but aroused as if by magic the drooping 
spirits of the American people, and did much for the cause in the eyes 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



305 



of foreign uatioiis. Congress now invested Washington with dictatorial 
powers for a specified time; troops were enlisted for three years in- 
stead of one year, which was the original term; and agents were sent to 




WASHINGTON AND LAFAYETTE, 
foreign countries to procure the recognition of the independence of the 
Uuited States, und assistance in the prosecution of the war. 

When the campaign of 1777 opened, the prospects of the country 
20 



306 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

had so far improved that Washington fonnd himself at the liead of an 
army of 7000 men. Sir William Howe made repeated efforts to draw 
him into a general engagement, but Washington completely out- 
o-eneraled him, and Howe withdrew his army from New Jersey to Stateu 
Island. Soon after this he sailed with 16,000 men to the Chesapeake, 
which he ascended to Elkton, in Marjdand, where he landed his forces 
and advanced through Delaware towards Philadelphia, which was the 
seat of the federal government. 

DISASTER OF THE BRANDYWINE. 

Washington, who had moved south of the Schuylkill, in anticipa- 
tion of this attempt, endeavored to check Howe's advance at the passage 
of the Brandywine, on the nth of September, but was defeated with the 
loss of 1,000 men. Congress withdrew from Philadelphia to Lancaster, j 
and then to Yoi'k, Pennsylvania. The British occupied Philadelphia a 
few days after the battle. On the 4th of October the American army 
made a vigorous attack upon the British force at Germantown, seven 
miles from Philadelphia, but was repulsed. 

In the north the American forces were more successful. General 
Bnrgoyne, with a force of 7,000 British and German regulars, and a 
considerable body of Canadiau.-^ and Indians, entered New York from 
Canada by wa\- of Lake Champlain, during the summer of 1777. Crown 
Point and Ticouderoga were evacnated by the Americans, and Bnrgoyne 
pushed on in triumph as far as Fort Edward, on the Hudson. From 
this point he sent a strong detachment to Bennington, in Vermont, to 
destroy the stores collected there b\' the Americans. This force was 
routed with heavy loss by the militia of Vermont and New Hampshire 
under General Stark, near Bennington, on the i6th of August, 1777 
General Gates was now appointed to the command of the American army 
confronting Bnrgoyne, and his force grew larger every day by reinforce- 
ments of militia from New England and New York. Burgoyne attacked 
him on the 19th of September at Behmus' Heights, and a severe but 
indecisive battle occurred. A second and more decisive engfagfemeut was 





t. 



4 



^W-ff] 



ATTACK UN CllKWS IIOUSF. AT THK IJATTl.K UF C.hRM AN 1 UW.\. ;i,i7 



308 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

fought on the 7th of October. Burgoyne was considerably worsted and 
endeavored to retreat, but npon reaching the vicinit)- of the town of Sar- 
atoga, was surronnded and forced to surrender his entire arm}^ on tlie 
17th of October. This was one great step nearer the end. 

GRAND VICTORY FOR THE AMERICAN ARMS. 

This victory, the most important of the war, greatly elated the 
Americans and cheered their friends in Europe. It advanced the bills 
of the Continental Congress, which had become greatly depreciated, and 
had the cifect of inducing the French government, which had secretly 
encouraged and aided the colonies from the first, to recognize the inde- 
pendence of the States. In February, 1778, a treaty of friendship, com- 
merce and alliance was signed at Paris between the United States and 
France. Great Britain seemed to realize now, for the first time, that she 
was about to lose her colonies, and endeavored to repair her mistakes. 
On the nth of March, 177S, Parliament repealed the acts that hid been 
so obnoxious to the Americans, and subsequently sent three commis- 
sioners to settle the differences between the two countries. As these 
commissioners had no authority to treat with the United States as an 
independent nation, Congress refused to enter into any negotiations with 
them. 

Washington's army passed the winter of 1777-78 at Valley Forge, 
about twenty miles from Philadelphia. The troops suffered terribly 
from hunger, exposure, and the dreadful privations to which they were 
subjected, but remained with their colors through it all. Their devotion 
was rewarded in the spring by the news of the alliance with France, 
which reached them in May, 1778, and was greeted with demonstrations 
of the liveliest 303-. 

The real crisis in the war had now come. The resources of the 
colonists were about exhausted, and however bold courage may be, it 
cannot subsist on empty air. An army must be fed and clothed. 
Although the alliance with France was of no great material benefit to 
us, it did help to encourage our troops. 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



309 



Sir William Howe's course did not give satisfaction at home, and he 
was removed from his command in America, and was succeeded by Sir 
Henry Clinton, who was ordered by his government to evacuate Phila- 
delphia and concentrate his forces at New York, as the French fleet 
might be expected in the Delaware at any moment. On the i8th of 
June, Clinton withdrew his forces from Philadelphia, and set out across 
New Jersey for 
New York. Wash- 
ington pursued 
h i m promptly, 
and came up with 
him at Monmouth 
Court House. 

A severe but 
indecisive en- 
gagement oc- 
curred between 
the two armies. 
At its close Clin- 
ton resumed his 
retreat to New 
York, and re- 
mained there for 

the rest of the summer, without seeking to renew hostilities with 
Washington. A few days after Clinton's evacuation of Philadelphia, 
the French fleet under Count D'Estaing arrived in the Delaware. 
Finding his enemy gone, the French admiral sailed for New York. 
The British fleet took refuge in Raritan bay, whither the larger 
vessels of the French were unable to follow them. In August the 
Americans made an attempt, in concert with the French fleet, to capture 
the British force at Newport, R. I. The French afforded so little aid 
that the enterprise failed. D'Hstaing withdrew from the coast soon after 
this, and sailed to the West Indies, having rendered little practical aid, 




VALLEY FORUli, l'li:\iN^V LVAN l.\, \V H l-.Ki; VVASl 1 INUTUr^'S ARM Y 
WENT INTO WINTER QUARTERS. 



nio 



GEORGK WASHINGTON. 



Tlie finances of the conntry were in the greatest confnsion. Fortn- 
uately the wisdom and nushrinkiug patriotism of Robert Morris, an 
eminent merchant and member of Congress from Philadelphia, saved 
them from ruin. When the public credit failed, he borrowed large sums 
of mone}' for the use of Congress, for the payment of which he pledged 
his own credit. On the whole, however, the cause of the States was 
much improved. Besides the alliance with France, they had the secret 
encouragement of Spain, They had confined the British to the territory 

held by that army in 
1776, and their own army 
was larger and better 
disciplined than it had 
ever been. 

In 1 7 79 the principal 
military operations were 
transferred to the South. 
Savannah had already 
been captured on the 29th 
i)f December, 1778, by an 
expedition sent from New 
York by Sir Henry Clin- 

WASHIiNGTON'S HEADQUARTERS AT VALLEY FORGE. j^qjj . ^-^^ l,y j-Jjg summer 

of 1779, the whole State of Georgia was in the hands of the British. In 
September, 1779, the French fleet and the American army, under Gen- 
eral Lincoln, attempted to recover Savannah, but were repulsed with a 
loss of 1000 men. 

On the i6th of June, 1779, Spain declared war against England, and 
in the summer of that year the French king, influenced by the appeals 
of Lafayette, who had visited France for that purpose, agreed to send 
another fleet and a strong body of troops to the aid of the Americans. 
The cruisers of the United States did great damage to the British 
commerce at sea, and in British waters, and John Paul Jones, with a 
squadron of three ships, fought and won one of the most desperate 




GEORGK WASHINGTON. 



311 



and sanguinary battles in naval histoi\v, within plain sight of the English 
coast. 

Sir Henrv Clinton, in obedience to instructions received from 
England, now withdrew tlie detachment from Newport, and concen- 
trated his arm}^ at New York. Early in 1780, leaving a strong garrison 
under General Knyphausen to hold New York, he sailed with the bulk 
of his army to the South, and laid siege to Charleston, which was held 
by General Lincoln with a force of about 7,000 Continentals and militia. 
After a gallant defence the city and the garrison were surrendered to 
Clinton on the 17th of May, 17S0. By the ist of June, the British had 
overrun the better 
part of South Caro 
lina, and Clinton 
was so well con- 
vinced of the com- 
pleteness of its 
subj ugation that he 
went back to New 
York, leaving the 
command in the 
South to Lord Corn- 
wallis. 

Small bands of wasiiin.-.tovs tiousf, 
partisan troops, under Marion, Sumter, and Pickens, and other leaders, 
now sprang up in various parts of South Carolina, and maintained 
a vigorous guerrilla warfare, from which the enemy suffered greatly. 
Congress soon after sent General Gates to command the forces in 
the South. Gates' success at Saratoga had made him the idol of the 
hour, and it had even been suggested by a few discontented persons that 
he should supersede Washington himself. His northern laurels were 
soon "changed to southern willows." Cornwall's met him at Camden 
on tlie 1 6th of August, routed him with the loss of 1,000 men, and drove 
him into North Carolina. By the close of the summer, the only 




MICH STKEICT, rHILXDl LI IIIA. 



n2 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



N( 



h' 



American force left in Sonth Carolina was the little band under 

Marion. 

Cornwallis, feeling that his communications with Charleston were 
^..«3*^T n ;r^-i;iil!ixS! safe followed Gates' beat- 
en army into North Caro- 
lina, abont the middle of 
September intending to 
continne his advance into 
Virginia. On the yth 
of October, a strong de- 
tachment of his army 
was totally defeated with 
heavy loss, at King's 
Mountain, in North Caro- 
lina, by the niiltia of that 
State. This was a severe 
Marion and 



Thirty Dollars 

THE Bearer is en 
titled to receive Thirty 
Spanijh milled D O L 
VIlARS, or an equal 
\Sum in Gold or Silver, 
I Lccording to a Refo 
hiilionof CONGRESS 
"of the I4lh "January, 
1779- 

lo Dollars. 



^//> 



//^ 



SPIXIMKN OF CONTIXKNTAL Cl'RRKNCY. 

blow to the British commander, and checked his advance 
Pickens about the same time renewed their operations in South Caro- 
lina with such activity that Cornwallis became 
alarmed for his communications, and fell back 
to Winnsborough, South Carolina. 

In the North the British commander 
vainly endeavored to draw Washington into 
a general engagement, in which he felt con- 
fident that his vast preponderance of numbers 
would give him the victory. Washington 
warily avoided being caught in the trap, and 
on the 23d of June, General Greene inflicted 
such a stinging defeat upon a British force at 
Springfield, N. J., that Clinton withdrew to 
New York, and remained there for the balance of tne year. After the 
battle of Camden, General Greene was sent to the Carolinas to succeed 
Gates in the command of the Southern army. 




/^^r^^^. ^2^1^-^^^^ 



GEORGK WASHINGTON. 



313 



On the lotli of July, 1 780, a French fleet and 6,000 troops under the Count 
de Rochambeau, reached Newport, R. I. In September, during the ab- 
sence of Washington at Hartford, Conn., whither he had gone to arrange 
a plan of operations with the French commander, it was discovered 
that General Benedict Arnold, one of the most brilliant officers of the 
Continental army, had agreed to deliver into the hands of the Britisli 
the important fortress of West Point, which he commanded at that time. 




WASHINGTON S HEAl)OUARTr:RS AT NEWBURGH, NEW YORK. 
The discovery of the plot put an end to the danger with which it threat- 
ened the cause. The traitor Arnold escaped, but Major Andre, a British 
officer, through whom Arnold had conducted his negotiations with Sir 
Henry Clinton, and whose capture had revealed the plot, was hanged as 
a spy. 

Towards the close of the year. Great Britain having discovered that 
the United States and Holland were secretly negotiating a treaty, declared 
war against the Dutch. The campaign of 1781 opened with the brilliant 
victory of the Cowpens, won over the British under Colonel Tarleton, 



314 



GEORGK WASI 1 1 NGTON. 



by General Morgan, on the 17th of Jannary. On the I5tli of March the 
battle of Gnilford Conrt House was fought in North Carolina, and 
resulted in a victory for the British. Cornwallis was unable to follow 
up his victory, and withdrew to Wilmington on the coast. On September 
Sth, the British forces under Colonel Stewart were defeated in the bloody 
battle of Eutaw Springs by General Greene, and were compelled to retire 




\1K\V OF YORKruWX, \1KG1.\1A. 

to the neighborhood of Charleston, to which they were confined during 
the remainder of the war. 

Meanwhile Cornwallis, after resting and recruiting his array at 
Wilmington, had advanced into Virginia, driving before liim the hand- 
ful of troops under Lafayette, Wayne and Steuben, who sought to sta}' his 
march. While in Virginia he occupied himself chiefly in destroying 
private property, and at length, in August, 17S1, in obedience to orders 
from Sir Henry Clinton to occupj^ a strong defensive position in Vir- 



GF,0RGP: WASHINGTON. 



315 



giiiia, intrenched liiniself at Yorktown, near the entrance of York river 
into the Chesapeake bay. 

Washington, whose army had been reinforced on the Hndson by 
the French troops under the Count de Rochambeau, was anxious 
to attack New York, and preparations were made for a com- 




SURRENDER OF LORD CORNVVALLIS 
bined attack on that city. A message was received at this juncture 
from the Count de Grasse, the French admiral in the West Indies, who 
announced that he had sailed for the Chesapeake. This led to an im- 
mediate change in the plan of operations determined upon by Wash- 
ington, and he resolved to transfer his army at once to Virginia and 
attempt the capture of Cornwallis. Skilfully deceiving Sir Henry Clin- 
ton into the belief that New York was the threatened point, and thus 
preventing him from sending assistance to Cornwallis, Washington 
moved rapidh' to Vii^ginia, and arrived before the British works at York- 
town with an army of 16,000 men on the 28th of September, 1781. 
The enemy's position was at once invested by land, and the French fleet 



r5i(i 



GKORGI': WASHINGTON. 



cut ofT all cliancL- of escape by water. The .siege was prosecuted with 
vigor, and on the 19th of October Cornwallis, having exhausted all his 
resources, surrendered his army of 7,000 troops with all his stores, 
cannon, and several ships-of-war. 

This victory virtually closed the war. It produced the wildest joy 
in America, and compelled a change of ministers in England. Lord 
North and his cabinet retired from office on the 20th of March, 1782, and 
the new administration, perceiving the hopelessness of the struggle, re- 

-, solved to make peace. 

Commissioners for that 
purpose were appointed, 
and orders were sent to the 
British commanders in 
America to desist from fur- 
ther hostilities. A pre- 
liminary treaty of peace 
was signed at Paris be- 
tween the United States 
U.NITKU STATES Mi.XT, I'HILADELPHI.A. and Great Britain, on the 

30th of November, 1782, and a formal treaty on the 3d of September, 
1783, all the nations concerned in the war, taking part in this treaty. 
By this treaty Great Britain acknowledged her former colonies to be 
free, sovereign, and independent States, and withdrew her troops from 
New York on the 25th of November 1782. Savannah and Charleston were 
evacuated in the following month. 

The great war was now over, and the repiiblic took its place in the 
family of nations ; but it was terribly weakened by its efforts. Its 
finances were in the most pitiful condition, and it had not the money to 
pay the troops it was about to disband, and who were really suffering for 
want of money. Considerable trouble arose on this account, but Wash- 
ington succeeded in effecting an arrangement to the satisfaction of the 
.soldiers. The army was disbanded immediately after the close of the 
war, and on the 23d of December, 1783, Washington resigned his com- 




m mw rsipf!ism?^m^w^?"i 




INAUGURATION OF WASHINGTON AS FIRST I'RFSIDENT. • 317 



318 



GKORCl". WASHINGTON. 



niissiou into the hauds of Congress, and retired to his home, at Mount 
Vernon. 

It was found that the articles of confederation were inadequate to 




WASHINGTON'S HOME AT MOUNT VF.RNON, VIRGINIA. 

the necessities of the republic, and after much discussion a new constitu- 
tion was framed by a federal convention at Philadelphia, in 1787, and 
was adopted by the States. It went into operation on the 4rh of March, 
T789. The city of New York was designated as the seat of government. 
Washington was unanimously chosen the iirst President of the 
United vStates, and John Adams Vice-president. They went into office 
on the 30th of April, 17S9. The first measures of Washington's admin- 
istration .greatly restored the confidence of the people in the government. 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 310 

Alexander Hamiltou, tlie vSecretary of the Treasury, inaugurated a series 
of reforms, wliicli were eminently beneficial. The debts of the old 
confederate government and of the States themselves were all assumed 
by the United States; a bank of the United States (which went into 
operation in February, 1794), was incorporated, and a national mint was 
established at Philadelphia. An Indian war in the West was prosecuted 
to a successful termination, and the neutrality of the republic with 
regard to the parties engaged in the wars springing out of the French 
revolution was faithfully maintained. 

Washington and Adams were re-elected in 1792. The French 
republic made great efforts to embroil the United States in a war with 
England, but they were met with firmness by Washington, who 
demanded the recall of M. Genet, the French Minister. The demand 
was complied with by France. In 1794, a treaty was negotiated with 
England, in settlement of the questions left unsettled b}' the revolution. 
In 1792 a formidable outbreak, in opposition to the excise law, known as 
the whiskey insurrection, occurred in Western Pennsylvania. It was 
suppressed by the federal government in 1794. Three new States were 
admitted into the Union during Washington's administration — Vermont, 
in 179 1 ; Kentucky, in 1792, and Tennessee, in 1796. 

Washington was urgently importuned to be a candidate for a third 
presidential term, but declined a re-election, although it was certai.i there 
would be no opposition to him. His action in this respect has become 
the settled policy of the government. In September, 1796, he issued a 
"Farewell Address" to his countrymen, warning them of the dangers 
to which their new system was exposed, and urging them to adhere 
firmly to the principles of the Constitution as their only hope of liberty 
and happiness. 

Such, in brief, wa.-: the glorious career of the immortal "Father of 
his Country." 



■^^i^^^^^'^TT^^^ 




ww^ 






CHAPTER XIX. 



GENERAL ISRAEL PUTNAM. 

ANECDOTES OF HIS EARLY LIFE — A HERO 
OF BUNKER HILL — NOBLE SERVICES REN- 
DERED HIS COUNTRY— HIS PLUNGE DOWN 
A PRECIPICE — A STURDY CHARACTER AND 
ILLUSTRIOUS PATRIOT. 



Almost every popular favorite has his nickname. The}' called 
General Jacksou ''Old Hickory ;" General Taylor was known everywhere 
through tlie camp by the name of " Old Zack " ; and, not to interpose 
too many instances between our own times and his, General Israel 
Putnam, (<f Revolutionary memorj-, was better known b}^ the whole army 
under the familiar title of "Old Put" thau either by the military rank 
he had honestly earned or the simple Scriptural name his father and 
mother gave him. 

Israel Putnam was born in Salem, Mass., on the 7th day ofjanuar}', 
1 7 18. His mother had twelve children, of whom he was the eleventh in 
order. The house still stands in which he was born, and is exactly half 
wa}', on the turnpike, between Newburyport and Boston. He was cour- 
ageous, and sometimes reckless, when a bov, but his disposition was not 
quarrelsome. When he was assailed, he stood his ground without flinch- 
ing ; but he was not in the habit of picking quarrels with anv one. 

When he went up to Boston for the first time in his life, one of the 
young town-fellows, a great deal older and bigger than himself, saw him 
coming along the street in his dress of plain homespun, staring at the 
signs and the windows, and taken up, as almost every true rustic is, at 
least once, with what he saw and heard around him, and, thinking, to 
320 



GKNKRAL LSRAKL PUTNAM. 32l 

liave some fuu out of the couutrv fellow, he taunted him with his dress, 
his gait, his manners, and his general appearance. Young Putuam bore 
it as well and as long as he could. He looked around and saw that a 
crowd had collected, whs^ seemed to be enjoying themselves at his expense. 
His blood rose at length, and he determined to submit no longer. Sud- 
denly he turned upon the ill-mannered city youth, and gave him such a 
thorough flogging on the spot as not only silenced his impudence, but 
likewise drew forth the instant admiration of the crowd who were, but a 
moment before, so willing to enjoy his own humiliation. This single 
little affair was wholl}- characteristic of the man, as he afterwards showed 
himself on a wider theatre. He was twenty-one years old when he was 
married, whicli event occurred in the j-ear 1739. His wife was Miss 
Hannah Pope, whose father — Mr. John Pope — lived in Salem also ; and 
their family afterwards counted four sous and six daughters. The year 
after he married lie emigrated from Salem to the town of Pomfret, in 
Connecticut, wliere he had bought a tract of land for the purpose. 
There was no better farmer in his day, the whole country round, than 
young Mr. Israel Putnam proved himself to be. 

ONE OF THE LARGEST WOOL GROWERS. 

He found that his land was especially adapted to the raising of 
sheep, and, accordingly, he bent his energies to the production of wool. 
So successful was he in this enterprise in a brief period of time, that he 
was popularly reckoned one the largest wool growers of the country, and 
his profits accumulated at a rate that soon put him in circumstances, 
beyond the possible reach of poverty or want. 

It was owing altogether to his having taken so extensive an interest 
in the raising of sheep that his adventure with the wolf became a piece 
of history. During several seasons he seemed to have suffered from 
rather hard luck, both in his crops and his live stock ; what with 
drought, and dry rot, and hard winters, he felt that his losses, continued 
through several ensuing years, were quite as large as he was able to 
submit to. But when it came to the losses in his sheep fold, which were 



n22 gi-:nkrai. lsrakl putnam. 

more and more severe every winter, lie roused himself to see if the mis- 
chief could not by some means be stopped where it was. It was prett\ 
couclusivel}^ proved that the work of slaughter was performed by ;l 
single she wolf, who, with her new family of whelps every year, came 
from a long distance to get her regular winter's living off the fatlings of 
his hillsides and pastures. Nor was he the only sufferer by her bold 
depredations. Nearly all the neighboring farmers were forced to submit 
to these losses, as well as himself, and they were quite read}- to under- 
take, with him, the destruction of the ravenous creature who was 
committing such a general havoc in the neighborhood. 

A VERY SLY OLD WOLF. 

This she wolf was an old jade, and very sly and shrewd withal. 
Almost every 3^ear the hunters, with their dogs, had fallen in with some 
of her whelps, and made an end of them on the spot ; but they never 
could manage to come upon her in a position from which she did not 
possess the cunning to somehow escape. Once thej' had succeeded in 
getting her to put her foot into a steel trap ; but rather than wait for 
them to come to a final settlement with her for her many crimes, she 
concluded she had better lose her toes and make the best of her way off 
without them. She preferred to sacrifice these, and so save her skin 
whole. 

Putnam got together five of his neighbors, therefore, and laid before 
them his proposal to hunt the old wolf down ; not to give her any 
further rest or peace until the}' got her into a place from which there 
could be no escape. The arrangement was that they were to take turns 
at the business, two at a time, and follow her up day and night till she 
was traced to her den, unless they might have the good luck to destrov 
her before she readied it. It was early in the winter when the pursuit 
began, and, as it happened, a light snow had fallen to aid them in their 
design. The clipped toes of the creature's feet, too, would assist the 
hunters in following her track, of which fact they were not slow to take 
advantage. 



GENERAL ISRAEL PUTNAM. 



323 



At an early hour on the second morning after setting out, they had 
succeeded in driving her into her den in a rocky ledge, situated some 
tliree miles to the north from Putnam's house, and within the limits of 
the town of Pomfret. She was carefully watched by one of the men, 
while the other went to give the alarm to the farmers around. It was not 
long before the woods in the vicinity of the cave were swarming with the 
male inhabitants of the town, including a pretty large sprinkling of boys. 

After a council of war had been held, and a close scrutiny of the 
retreat chosen by their 
crafty enemy had been 
indulged in, it was gener- 
ally concluded that the 
wolf was not such a great 
fool in going into this 
cavity as they might have 
thought her. She was, 
to all intents and pur- 
poses, in her fortress. 
How should they go to 
work to get her out? At 
first they tried tantaliza- 
tion, — sending in their 
dogs, who came out again 
yelping and crying, with general Israel putnam. 

lacerated skins, and torn and bloody noses, showing how skilfully she 
had used her claws in her own defence. They could not prevail on the 
dogs that had tried the entrance once to go in the second time. 

So they next hit upon the plan to stuif in lighted bundles of straw, 
sprinkled liberally with siilphur, hoping thus to smoke her oxit. They 
very truly argued that, if she could stand that, she must be too much 
for them to think of attacking. Accordingly, the straw was piled in, and 
set on fire. The dense volumes of smoke rose and rolled slowly into the 
cave, and they thought thej^ were going to secure their game this time 




324 gknI':ral isr.\i:i. putnam. 

without ail}- further trouble. But they looked, and continued to look, in 
vain for the appearance of anything like a wolf. The smoke could uot 
have reached her, or, if it did, it failed to have the effect up.)n her they 
had calculated. 

Time was wearing on in this way, and nothing seemed likely to come 
of all their labor at last. It wanted now but about a couple of hours to 
niidni<'-ht. They were not willing to go home and leave their dreaded 
enemy where she was, unharmed, and free to repeat her bloody mischief. 

PUTNAM CRAWLS INTO THE WOLF'S DEN. 

Finally it became difficult to endure this state of suspense an}' longer, 
and Putnam took his resolution. It was a bold, and no doubt a very 
reckless, one ; but when he considered, in a flash of his thought, the 
amount of the losses incurred by his neighbors, as well as himself, from 
the depredations of this ravenous wild beast, he wondered how it was 
po.ssible for any one to hesitate. He declared he would go down and 
meet the old wolf himself. The farmers were overwhelmed with astonish- 
ment, and tried to dissiuide him from carrying out his rash purpose. Bur 
all the}- could sa\' had no effect whatever upon him. He was determined 
to put an end to the existence of the wolf, and to do it on that very night, 

Well aware of the fear inspired in a wild animal by the sight of fire, 
lie ])rovidcd himself witli a large quantity of bircli bark, torn into shreds, 
before going into the cave, and lighted a sufficient number for his imme- 
diate purpose. These furnished all the light he had by which to guide 
himself along the winding passages of the rocky cavern. Stripping off 
his coat and waistcoat, with a lighted torch in one hand he entered 
the dark apertiire at near midnight, crawling slowly upon his hands and 
knees. 

The mouth of the wolf's den was about two feet square. From this 
point it proceeds downwards about fifteen feet, then it runs horizontalh 
for some ten feet more, and afterwards it ascends very easily for sixteen 
feet towards its termination. The sides of the cave are of solid rock 
and quite smooth ; the top and bottom are of the same material ; it is 



GENERAL ISRAEL PUTNAM. 325 

but three feet in width, and in no part can a man stand upright. Putnam 
groped his wa}' along by the aid of his flaring and smoking torches. 

All was still as a tomb, and his feeble torchlight was able to pene- 
trate but a little distance into the surrounding gloom. He was obliged 
to advance slowly, and every few moments it became necessary for him to 
renew his torch, which he did with the greatest care, lest it might go out 
in the lighting, and he be left in the profoundest darkness. 

ARRESTED BY THE BEASTS GLARING EYES. 

After creeping over the ten feet of the level portion of the cave, he 
came to the ascent. Ouward he dragged his slow and toilsome way, till 
his progress was suddenly arrested b}' the sight of a ]):iir of glaring eve- 
balls at the ver}- extremitv of the cavern. There sat the old wolf her- 
self; and, as she saw the flash of the torch he carried in his hand, she 
gnashed her teeth and uttered a low and threatening growl. The brave 
and venturesome A'oung farmer look a liastj- view of things in the cave, 
and then gave a kick at the rojje which his friends had tied about one of 
his legs Ijefore he made the descent, lj_y wa}- of precaution. 

Fearing that the worst had befallen him, they pulled more excitedly 
at the rope than was necessary ; and, before he could have protested 
against rough treatment, he f)und himself dragged oul upon the ground 
before the nujuth of the cave, with "his shirt stripped over his head, and 
his skin severely lacerated." The\- had heard the growl of llie wolf 
outside, and feared that he was involved in a struggle witli her f >r life 
or death. Besides, it was known that he had carried no weapons into 
the cave with him, and they were more solicitous on that account. 

This time, however, he loaded his gun, took more torches, and went 
down better prepared for the encounter. He knew his waj' along, of 
course, better than before ; but he was now burdened with his musket. 
When he came in sight of the wolf again, she was in the same place and 
position, but appeared a great deal more dissatisfied with his compau}-. 

The account of his early biographer and personal friend states that 
she wore an aspect of great fierceness- — " howling, rolling lisr f^ycs, 



326 GENERAL ISRAEL PUTNAM. 

suapping her teeth, and dropping her head between her legs. She was 
evidently in the attitude and on the point of springing at her assailant. 
At that critical moment he levelled his piece, aiming directly at her 
head, and fired. Stunned with the shock, and suffocated with the smoke 
of the powder, he immediately found himself drawn out of the cave." 
But this time his frieuds took a little more care not to strip his shirt 
over his shoulders, nor to tear his skin against the jagged edges of 
ihe rock, as they had done before. 

LYING DEAD ON THE FLOOR OF THE CAVE. 

He allowed a few moments fcjr the smoke to escape from the cham- 
bers of the cavern, and then weal in ;igain to secure his prize. On ex- 
amination he found his old enemy lying dead on the floor of the cave at 
its further extremity, in a pool of blood. He had taken aim to some 
purpose. In order to satisf}' himself that she was reall}' dead, he applied 
his torch to her nose ; she made no signs of life. Accordingh-, he seized 
her by her ears, gave the rope around his leg an exulting kick, and out 
he went, with his precious prize dragging after him, into the midst of the 
crowd at the mouth of the cavern, who showered their praises and con- 
gratulations upou him without stint. Tlie}- set up a shout of delight 
that filled the wintr\- woods with its echoes. Their arch enemy at length, 
lay stretched out stark and stiff at their feet. 

From that hour Israel Putnam was a hero in the eyes and mouth of 
everj'body. He came very soon to be known far and wide as the slayer 
of the old she-wolf that had made such havoc with the farmers' folds, 
and people loved to repeat a story that had such decided elements of 
daring in it ; for it excited them quite as much in the telling as it did 
others in the hearing. The story grew, too, as it travelled, aud Putnam's 
fame, of course, grew along with it. He was known among the oflBcers 
of the army with whom he fought during the Seven Years' War as 
"the Old Wolf" 

A dozen years after this incident the French and Indian War broke 
out, and Putnam entered the service of his country. This he did from 



GENERAL ISRAEL PUTNAM. 327 

the purest and most uoble motives. Where he was most needed, there 
he was most always found. He distinguished himself in the French 
war by his reckless courage and adventurous spirit, and, being captured 
by the Indians near Ticonderoga, in 1758, he had a narrow escape from 
death. Two hundred of them were conducting him to Ticouderoga, and 
soon came into what seemed the very heart of the wilderness. Here 




INDIANS TORTURING A WHITE CAPTIVE. 

they stopped and lield a consultation. It was resolved at length to take 
their prisoner and roast him to death by a slow fire ! Such fiendish 
torture was exactly suited to their savage instincts. Accordingly they 
stripped him of his clothes, bound him to a tree, and piled faggots and 
brushwood around him. He looked on in courageous silence, and pre- 
pared his thoughts for the end that seemed near at hand. 

His tormentors began to yell and dance around him. The fire was 
kindled and the flames began slowly to creep up towards hiiu. The 



:;-2S GENERAL ISRAEL PUTNAM. 

savages screamed in wild delight. The fire grew hotter and hotter, and 
the suffering victim, writhing and twisting, turned himself from side to 
side. The first time the fire was kindled a sudden fall of rain quenched 
it, but after the .second trial it burnt with great rapidity. The more he 
writhed in his speechless agony, the louder the savages yelled in their 




XDIAX SCALP DANCE AFTER A SUCCESSFUL RAID. 



wild d(.light, and the more frantic became their motions in their barbaric 
dances He fixed his thoughts on the loved ones at home, and made 
ready to die whenever the last moment should come. 

Suddenly a French officer came dashing up tln\)Ugh the crowd, 
kicked away the burning faggots and branches, cut the thongs b}' which 
he was tied to the tree, and released him. He had heard of these 



GENERAL ISRAEL PUTNAM. 



329 



inhuiuau barbarities of the Indians towards their distinguished captive, 
and hastened on to save him from the fate which he knew awaited him. 
Had he come a few minutes later, it would probablj' have been all over 
with. He passionately upbraided the Indians for their cruelty, aud took 
the prisoner under his own charge for the rest of the journey. 

Putnam suffered excessively all the way to Ticonderoga, although 
he was treated with kindness and courtesy. When he reached that 
fortress he was pre- 
sented a prisoner to 
Marquis Montcalm, 
the French com- 
mander, by whom he 
was soon after sent 
under a proper escort 
to Montreal. Col. 
Peter Schuyler was a 
prisoner there with 
others at the time, 
and he paid Putnam 
great attention and 
rivilitv. It was 
through his influence 
that he was finally ex- 
chano-ed for a French putnam le.aving the plow for bunker hill. 
prisoner, captured by Col. Bradstreet at the assault on Frontenac, now 
Kingston, in upper Canada. In Montreal, too. Major Putnam became 
acquainted with a lovely prisoner, Mrs. Howe, whom he escorted back in 
safety to her friends in New England. His final release was hailed with 
ioy by his numerous friends throughout the combined English and 
Provincial army. The}' had never expected to see him alive again. 

After this Putnam led a quiet life at home for ten years, during which 
time he made his farmhouse into an inn and became very prominent 
among a society called the Sons of Liberty, the object of which was to 




330 GENERAL ISRAEL PUTNAM. 

further the cause of American Independence. In 1775, after the battle 
of Concord, he was given the command of the forces of Connecticut. He 
was at work in the field when he heard that he was wanted to resist the 
British invasion; he left his plow standing and hurried to join the army. 
At the battle of Bunker Hill, which was one of the first battles of the 
Revolution and was fought just across the ba}^ from Boston, he was the 
highest officer in command, although he offered that position to General 
Warren. He was a marked figure everywhere." 

"WAIT TILL YOU SEE THE WHITES OF THEIR EYES." 

A brief account of the battle will show Putnam's intrepid bravery- 
Not a word was spoken, apparently, as the splendid army of Great Britain 
slowl}' toiled up the hill in the hot sun. The Americans kept out oi 
sight, and waited almost impatiently for the enemy's approach. There 
were now fifteen hundred brave hearts within those intrenchments, eagei 
to engage with the foe. Putnam told the men, as he passed hastily along 
the lines, dusty and perspiring, not to waste their fire, for powder was 
very scarce. "Wait", said he, ''till you seethe whites of their eyes, 
and then take aim at their waistbands ! Fire low — and pick off the 
commanders, with the handsome coats ". Prescott gave the same orders 
to those within the redoubt. So did the other officers all along the lines, 
behind the b-eastworks and the rail-fence. 

The moment the front ranks of the enemy came near enough, the 
word was given to fire. The execution was be3'ond description. Not a 
single shot seemed to have been wasted. The British fell down in solid 
ranks, like grass befoie the scythe of the mower. Another volley followed 
from behind the intrenclimeuts, and then another, each doing as terrible 
work as the first ; and instantly the whole bod}- of the British were struck 
with terror and broke and ran like sheep down the hill. Some of the 
Americans were so overjoyed to beliold the result that they leaped over 
tlie rail fence, and would have pursued them down to the water s edge ; 
but they were prudently held in check by their officers. 

It was not long before Gen. Howe succeeded in rallying his defeated 



GENERAL ISRAEL PUTNAM. 



331 



troops once more, and bringing them up to the attack as before. The 
Americans made ready for them as rapidly as they could. Putnam had 
ridden in hot haste across to Bunker Hill, and tried in vain to bring back 
the additional troops — fragments of regiments — posted there, so that 
the}' might take part in the battle. When the British came up to the 




IJAITLK OF BUiNKKR HILL, 
attack the second time, there were no more Americans in the engagement 
than before. Four hundred men arrived from Boston, under command 
of Major Small. Gen. Howe led the way this time, telling his men 
they need not go a foot further than he was willing to go himself This 
time they played their artiller}- with considerable effect. They were 
obliged to march over the dead bodies of their companions, which lay in 
rows all around them on the hillside. 



332 GENERAL ISRAEL PUTNAM. 

Tbe Americans behind their iutrenchments waited until they came 
within the prescribed distance, and then poured in a volley that did even 
more murderous work than they had done before. Whole ranks of 
officers and men alike were swept down before this resistless fire. Gen. 
Howe found himself at one time standing almost entirely alone. The 
troops were filled with direst confusion. It was more than their officers 
could do to hold them together. The broken ranks could not be closed 
up aud made whole with the help of any exertions. No threats had the 
least effect upon the panic-stricken regulars. Alarmed and dispirited, 
aud overwhelmed with double confusion, they turned their backs in a 
body aud ran off down the hill, beyond the reach of the Provincials' 
deadl\- musketr\-, aud tried to find a i)lace of safety. 

BRITISH GENERAL BECOMES DESPERATE. 

General Clinton, the British commander, saw the rout that had been 
created by the stubborn Provincial militia, and felt mortified and cha- 
grined ; so much so that he hastily threw himself into a boat, and, some- 
five hundred more following, crossed over with the reckless resolution of 
serving as a volunteei'. A part of the British officers protested against 
marching up the hill again, to meet with certain destruction ; but Howe 
had b}' this time found out where the weakest poiuts in the works la}- — 
between the breastworks aud the rail fence — aud determined to make one 
final effort to carry it. It is also related that some careless soldier within 
the redoubt was heard to say something about the scarcit^• of the auimu- 
uitiou ; and this fact, when reported to the officers, gave a little more 
encouragement to the enemy. 

General Howe, therefore, led the third attack agahist the American 
left, especially against the point on the slope between the breastworks 
aud the rail fence. General Pigot, aided by General Clinton and his 
forces, mai-ched up to attack the redoubt, aiming also to turn the 
American right. The orders to the British soldiers were to take the 
fire of the Americans, and then to charge bayonets and scale the works. 
This is what they should have done in the first place ; aud what they 



GENERAL ISRAEL PUTN.\M 333 

would liave doue, had they kuown how short the Americans were of 
ammunition. 

(3n came the British, at length, for the third time. 'I'he Americans 
stood firm and resolute in their lines, prepared to receive them. The 
British artillery soon turned the breastworks, however, sweeping ihe 
whole line of their interior. The Americans were of course thus driven 
within the redoubt, the breastwork being abandoned. But they had 
taken sure aim before they left, and brought down many a proud British 
officer. General Howe himself was wounded in the foot. There was 
but one round apiece to the Provincials now, and when they had 
expended their first fire they knew they must make a hand-to-hand fight 
of it. Hence they fired with just as great precision as before, every 
shot bringing down its nuiu and creating fearful hayoc. 

A FIGHT WITH FIXED BAYONETS. 

Theu it was that they were put to their true mettle. From that 
moment it was every man for himself. The British came jumping over 
the walls of earth, with fixed bayonets. The}' were received with showers 
of stones in their faces, with muskets iised like clubs over their heads, 
and with resistance in every possible style. The fight was man against 
man. Every inch of ground was stoutly contested. The redoubt was 
already fast filling up with the enemy, and the Americans saw that noth- 
ing was left them but to retreat. 

Putnam covered their retreat in person, and was not more than 
twelve rods distant from the enemy, and fully exposed to their fire. He 
came to one of the field-pieces that had been deserted, which he roundly 
swore should not be given up to the enemy. Only one man could 
be found to remain with him ; and he was in another moment shot 
down at his side, and the rapid advance of the British with fixed 
bayonets drove him from the cannon also. Colonel Trumbull, the painter 
of the Revolution, has repi-esented Putnam, in his great battle piece at 
the National Capitol, in the act of defending this field-piece and coverin ' 
the retreatins; militia. 



r,! GKNKRAL ISRAFX PUTNAM. 

The painter has attired him in a splendid bine and scarlet nniform, 
whereas his dress on that da}' was strikingly different from that, and 
more truly befitted the characrer of the man and the nature of the work 
he was engaged in. An old .soldier, who was in the fight on that day, 
has told us exactly how the General was clad, and how he locked. He 
saj's that he rode about the hill, and across the neck between Charles- 
town and Cambridge, in order to report to General Ward, — "without 
any coat, in his shirt sleeves, and with an old felt hat on his head." 
This was certainly more a dress for useful than for ornamental pur- 
pcses, and would not be likely to encumber or embarrass an}- one who 
had hard and hasty work to do. He was stripped for battle. 

"OLD PUT" COVERS HIMSELF WITH GLORY. 

In this famous battle Putnam covered himself with glory. Against 
a desperate foe he and his brave yeomanry fought with surpassing des- 
peration and bravery. ''Old Put." was the very life and hero of Bunker 
Hill. He was next appointed bj' Congress a Major-General, and held 
command of the troops at New York, and in August, 1776, at Brooklyn 
Heights, where he was defeated by the British General Howe. This did 
not discourage him, but he went right on as if nothing had happened, 
feeling sure that success would come later. 

He afterwards held various commands, and in 1777 was appointed 
to the defense of the Highlands of the Hudson. While at Peekskill a 
lieutenant in a British regiment was captured as a spy and condemned 
to death. Sir Henry Clinton, a British commanding officer, sent a flag 
of truce to Putnam threatening vengeance if the sentence was carried 
out. Putnam wrote a brief reply that Sir Henry could understand 
without much trouble. It was as follows : 

''Headquarters, 7th August, 1777. Edmund Palmer, an oflScer in 
the enemy's service, was taken as a spy lurking within our lines ; he has 
been tried as a spy, condemned as a spy, and shall be executed as a sp}-, 
and the flag is ordered to depart immediately. Israel Putnam. P. wS. — 
He has accordingly been executed." 



GENF.RAL I.SRy\KL PUTNAM. 



In 1778, Putnam made his famous escape from Governor Tryon's 
dragoons in Western Connecticut by riding down the stone steps at a 
place called Horseneck. 

Tryon marched with a detachment of fifteen hundred men from 
King's Bridge over to Horseneck, or what is now known as West Green- 
wich. Gen. Putnam was there at Horse- 
neck witli a small force of only a hun- 
dred and fifty men to oppose the ad- 
vancing enem}'. He was stationed on 
the brow of a steep hill, and had but 
two iron cannon with him, but without 
drag ropes or horses. He determined, 
ho\\ever, to show the enem}- that he 
would not run as long as there was a 
chance to harass them, or do them any 
mischief 

The field pieces were loaded and 
fired several times at them as they came 
up, performing considerable execution. 
Resolved to put a stop to such a pro- 
ceeding at once, the British General 
ordered a party of dragoons, supported 
by the infantry, to charge upon the 
cause of the mischief Seeing what _ 

they were determined to do, and feeling the minute man. 

certain that there was no use in trying to oppose his little handful of 
men to the large body of the enemy at hand, Gen. Putnam told his 
soldiers to retreat at the top of their speed into a swamp near by, where 
the cavalry could not enter to molest them. 

He then waited himself till the men had all got off safely, and when 
the dragoons had come almost within a sword's length of him in their 
impetuous chase, he took a mad plunge down the precipice, while their 
horses recoiled and the riders looked on with a feeling of astonishment 




33t) GKNERAL ISRAKL PUTNAM. 

that almost amounted to liorror. They dared not coutiiiue the pursuit, 
so fearfully precipitous was the desceut over the rocks and stones. It 
was a feat of reckless daring, especially for a man well along in years, 
that was quite worth}' of one who, in his younger days, went down alone 
into a cave after a hunted wolf at midnight. 

The road led round the hill, but he was far beyond their reach before 
they could recover themselves sufficiently to set out after him b}' that 
way. They hastily sent a volley of bullets in pursuit of him, as he 
plunged down the rocky steep; one of them went through his hat, but 
not a hair of his head was injured. There were from seventy-five to 
one hundred rude stone steps laid on this declivity to assist the people 
from below in climbing the hill to the ordinar}- services on Sunday at 
the church on the brow of the same. Putnam's horse took him in a zig- 
zag direction down these steps and landed him safel}- in the plain. 

And thus one of the brightest pages in our American annals is 
illumed by the heroic spirit, the sturdy honesty and religious character, 
the thrilling deeds and splendid example of "Old Put." He died May 
19, 1790, having served his country nobly. 

Let all who read these pages remember the daring achievements 
and willing sacrifices of those old heroes of the Revolution. They did 
not count their lives dear to them, and when their country called them 
to the defence of American independence they sprang into the breach 
and risked everything for their great cause. It is something to belong 
to a nation that has such a thrilling and illustrious histor}'. We believe 
the sons of the present generation are worthy of the sii'es who gained 
our liberties. 



''''''WlfllWIJFI'ilJ "11"' H" MI ' l'llf'|PII ' 'i f ' j i llEMirrill ' IW ' W " i' |) 'i ii. i' i | | ih, ' ")nm n; 




'.^^<mI^\L^ ; / 




CHAPTER XX. 

COLONEL ETHAN ALLEN. 

IKKO OF TICONDEROGA — "IN THE NAME OF THE 
GREAT JEHOVAH AND THE CONTrNENTAL CON- 
GRESS " — A MAN FOR DESPERATE VENTURES — 
HIS SUFFERINGS IN CAPTIVITY. 



It is well-nigh impos.sible for lis, at tins day, full_v to realize the 
intense and burning indignation which was aroused througliout the 
length and breadth of the land by the news of the battle at Lexington, 
in the beginning of the American Revolution. Blood had been shed • 
and the blood of murdered brethren cried from the ground for vengeance. 
Volunteers immediately abandoned their occupations and hastened on 
towards the scene of action, and within a few days Boston was besieged 
by the outraged people. 

The gallant Stark, of New Hampshire, ten minutes after the news 
reached him, was on his way to join the patriot force. Israel Putnam, 
of Connecticut, sixty years of age, was peacefully occupied in ploughing 
when the tidings of the battle arrived, and he left his plough in the 
field, and without even going to his house, sped on his way to the camp. 
All Virginia was aroused. Lord Dunmore, the royal Governor, at- 
tempted to seize upon military stores, which caused great excitement, 
and nothing but timely concession on the part of the governor prevented 
bloodshed. 

In New York, in Philadelphia, and farther south, the spirit of the 
people showed how deepl}' they sympathized with their countrymen in 
Massachusetts. It was felt everywhere that the sword had been drawn, 
and that now the contest must be decided by the sword. "Unhapp}- is 



33S COLONEL ETHAN ALLEN. 

it," said Washington, writing to Fairfax, in England, a nobleman and 
friend of the first President, in regard to the deplorable commence- 
ment of hostilities at Lexington, "to reflect that a brother's sword has 
been sheathed in a brother's breast, and that tlie once happy and peace- 
ful plains of America are to be either drenched with blood or inhabited 
by .slaves. Sad alternative ! But can a virtuous man hesitate in his 
choice ?" 

The Massachusetts Congress was in session at tlie time, and imme- 
diately took measures for sending depositions to England, to prove — -as 
was no doubt the case — that the British troops were the aggressors. 
They also, while professing undiminished loyalt}- to the king, "appealed 
to heaven for the justice of their cause, and determined to die or be free." 
The forts, magazines and arsenals were speedily seized upon by the 
people in all directions, and preparations were made for war. 

TWENTY THOUSAND MEN AT BOSTON. 

Troops were raised, and a new issue of paper money made. Boston 
was soon besieged by a force of twenty thousand men, who formed a line 
of encampment from Roxbury to the River Mystic. Artemas Ward was 
appointed captain-general of the troops thus brought together from the 
neighboring colonies, who promptly determined to sustain Massachusetts 
in the impending struggle. 

Some bold spirits, perceiving clearl}^ that war was at hand, had con- 
ceived a plan for capturing Ticonderoga and Crown Point. Etban Allen, 
with his Green Mountain Boys, less than three hundred in number, 
assembled at Castleton, May 2d, and were there joined by Benedict 
Arnold, who had also set out on the same errand. Arnold had a colonel's 
commission from ^Massachusetts, and claimed the command ; but the 
Vermonters refused ilatly, and he was forced to serve as volunteer or not 
at all. 

The party arrived at Shoreham, opposite Ticonderoga, on the night 
of the 9th of May. Never dreaming of such a thing as an attack, the 
vigilance of the garrison was quite relaxed. Having obtained a boy. 



C0L0NF:L ETHAN ALLEN. 330 

named Nathan Beman, as a gnide, Allen and Arnold crossed over during 
the night with only eightv-three of their men, the rest being unable to 
follow them for want of a supply of boats. Landed luider the walls 
of the fort, they found their position extremeU' critical ; the dawn was 
beginning to break, and unless thev could succeed in instantly sur- 
prising the garrison, they ran themselves the most imminent risk of 
capture. 

Ethan Allen did not hesitate a moment, but, drawing up his men, 
briefly explained to them the position of affairs, and then, with Arnold 




CAPTURE OF TICONDF.ROC.A I'.Y KTHAN ALLEN. 

by his side, hurried up immediately to the sally-porl. The sentinel 
snapped his fusee at them, and, rushing into the fort, the Americans 
followed close at his heels, and, entering the open parade, awoke the 
sleeping gari'ison with three hearty cheers. The English soldiers started 
from their beds, and, rushing below, were immediatelv taken prisoners. 

Meanwhile Allen, attended by his guide, hurried up to the chamber 
of the commandant, Captain Delaplace, who was in bed, and, knocking at 
his door with the hilt of his huge sword, ordered him in a stentorian voice 
to make his instant appearance, or the entire garrison should immedi- 
ately be put to death. The commandant appeared at his door, half- 



nio 



COLONKL ETHAN ALLEN. 



i 



dressed, "the frightened face of his pretty wife peering over his shoulders." 
Gazing in bewildered astonishment at Allen, he exclaimed, " By whose 
authority do you act ? " " In the name of the Great Jehovah and the Con- 
tinental Congress!" replied Allen, with a flourish of his long sword, and, 
we are sorry to say, with an oath following it. 

There was no alternative and Delaplace surrendered. Two days after- 
wards, Crown Point was surprised and taken. More tlian two hundred 
pieces of artillery and a large and valuable suppl}' of powder, which Avas 
greatly needed, fell into the hands of the Americans. By these daring 

sii^^ g:-, movements, the 
command of 
^smBo-.: Lakes (reorge 
and Champlain 
w IS won, and 
tilt great high- 
to Canada 
w IS throw u 
open 

B e f o r c the 
close of 1775, 
^^ Biitibh author- 
it} had been 
overthrown in 

all the colonies. The royal governors were compelled to espouse the 
cause of the home country or give way to those that would. The Ameri- 
cans made the mistake, which has beeiv repeated more than once since, 
of believing that Canada would make common cause with them against 
Great Britain. While the long siege of Boston was pressed, an expedi- 
tion was made into that province. When it became known that General 
Carleton, governor of Cauada, was preparing to re-occupy Crown Point 
and Ticonderoga, General Philip Schuyler was ordered to proceed without 
delay to Ticonderoga, thence to advance into Canada and take possession 
of Aloutreal and St. John's. While the boats for the transport of the 




VIEW OF MONTREAL FROM MOUNT ROYAL. 



COLONEL ETHAN ALLEN. 341 

troops were building, Schuyler sent parties across the border to learn the 
sentiments of the people, and to gather needed information. On their 
return they reported that the people were friendly, and that the militia, 
which did not number more than seven hundred, refused to serve under 
French officers. 

Schuyler's second in command was Richard Montgomery, formerly 
an officer in the British army, and a daring Irish leader who had done 
valiant service. Schuyler falling ill, the command devolved ou the Irish- 
man. An armed camp was formed on the Isle Aux Noix, and a boom 
thrown across the channel to prevent passage by the enemy's sloops-of- 
war. In several small conflicts tliat followed, the Americans showed 
such insubordination and cowardice that Montgomery was filled with 
rage, and expressed regret that he had ever undertaken to lead them. 
Nevertheless he invested St. John's with all possible vigor, while Schuyler 
at Albany did his utmost to forward men and supplies. 

CAPTURED AND HKAVILY IRONED. 

One of Montgomery's officers was Ethan Allen, the hero of Ticou- 
deroga. With the wild courage natural to him, he went to Chanibl}' to 
raise a force of Canadians. Having recruited eighty he united them 
with thirty Americans, and set out to capture Montreal. He left Lon- 
guel on the night of September 24th, :ind hastened to Long Point. Re- 
enforcements had been ])roniised him tliere, but did not appear. He 
could not retreat, and, tlierefore, made the bravest defense possible 
against a force four times as large as his o.vn, but was finally compelled 
to surrender, with all his men who could not escape. He was heavily 
ironed and sent to England, where he remained a prisoner for some time. 

Thence he was sent to New York, where he remained a 3'ear and a 
half, before he was exchanged for Colonel Campbell. His health having 
been greatly impaired, he returned to Vermont, where he was appointed 
to command the militia. His patriotism was firm, and he indignantl}'- 
rejected the bribes offered by the British. He died suddenly, at his 
estate at Colchester, February 13, i7iS9. 



342 COLONEL ETHAN ALLEN. 

Ethan Allen was a good type of the heroic souls who won our inde- 
pendence. He was an utter stranger to hardship and danger, taking no 
account of the sacrifices demanded in the service of his countrj'. His 
three hundred ''Green Mountain Boys " were like himself; his spirit 
animated them, and they were ready for any call, even at the risk of life. 
His capture of Ticonderoga has always been spoken of as one of the ■ 
thrilling incidents of the Revolution, and every historian of our great 
struggle has awarded him merited praise and honor. 

If anything can be said to his detriment, it is that he was too ven- ■ 
turesome. He was the kind of man who never stopped to consider con- 
sequences. His personal braver}' Inade him a most formidable foe, and 
if the enemy were ten times as strong as his own force, he still rushed 
into the storm of battle. He was the sturd}' champion of whatever he 
believed to be right, being a man of strong convictions, resolute in main- 
taining them, and never yielding a hair's breadth to expediency or fear. I 
He had that personal magnetism which belongs to all great leaders, and 
with better opportunities would have left behind him even a more bril- 
liant name as a patriot and hero. 








CHAPTER XXI. 

SERGEANT WILLIAM JASPER. 

HERO OF FORT MOULTRIE — FLAG OF SOUTH 
CAROLINA INSCRIBED WITH "LIBERTY" — 
STANDARD SHOT AWAY — JASPER'S BRAVE 
DEEB — PRESENTED BY GOVERNOR RUTLEDGE 
WITH HIS OWN SWORD — HIS GALLANT SER- 
VICES UNDER MARION. 

You must bear iu mind that not only were the patriots in our Revo- 
lution forced to combat with the British invaders of their country, but 
that they had enemies at home. These were men who believed it wrong 
to fight for their independence, and who thought the rule of King 
George III. the best that the colonies could have. Many of the Tories 
were cruel and treacherous, and while their patriotic neighbors were 
iiway from home fighting for liberty, injured their propert}-, sometimes 
burning their houses and shooting the members of their families. When 
brave enough to face danger they would either join the British invaders 
or form companies of their own to fight against their fellow-citizens. It 
is probable that some of the Tories were honest in theii belief, but no 
one can justify their brutalities. 

There was a severe conflict in North Carolina between the patriots 
and Tories, in which the latter were defeated with a heavy loss. So 
completely were the traitors crushed, that for a time it was hard work 
to find one in that part of the country. 

The British commanders, Clinton, Cornwallis and Parker, showed 
no great eagerness to engage in their work. The first-named general 
having reached Wilmington, awaited the arrival of the fleet and re-iu- 
forcements. The ships came in one by one, the first arriving on the 

343 



1 



SERGEANT WILLIAM JASPER. 



344 

third of May, 1776, with Admiral Parker. This delay gave the Conti- 

uentals good opportunity to prepare themselves for the attack. 

Christopher Gadseii was colonel of the first patriot regiment, and 
William Moultrie commanded the second. There was also a regiment 
of riflemen, all famous marksmen, while their colonel, William Thomp- 
son, was the best shot of all. Tories were plentiful in vSonth Carolina, 




FORT MOULTRIE, CHARLESTON HARBOR. 

but the}' were pretty well scared, and when North Carolina sent a regi- 
ment to her neighbor's help, all danger to the patriots from the rear was 
removed. 

It was easy to see the importance of Charleston. The British 
General Clinton could do nothing without the help of his fleet, and that 
fleet was powerless until it had possession of Charleston harbor. The 
South Carolinians saw this from the first, and did not wait until the 



SERGEANT WILLIAM JASPER. 345 

danger was upon them before preparing for it. Scarcely was the news 
of Lexington known when the\- began fortifying the harbor. The}' 
knew their turn would soon come, and they did not mean to be caught 
napping. 

On the north side of the entrance to the harbor lay Sullivan's Island 
— low, marshy and wooded — while on the south side was James Island, 
much larger. Gadsen was intrenched on the latter, and Moultrie and 
Thompson were on Sullivan's Island, which is six miles distant from 
Charleston. The streets of the town were barricaded and a large force 
■.vas kept under arms to resist the assault that was sure to come, in case 
Jie outer defenses were carried. The most important of these was the 
fort erected by Moultrie on Sullivan's Island, opposite the place where 
the channel ran closest to the shore. No vessel could reach Charleston 
without passing that fort, and as long as the vessels were held at bay 
Charleston was safe, and the inliabitants felt at ease. 

A CURIOUS FORT. 

The walls of the fort were made of palmetto logs, and the spaces 
between filled with sand, so that the walls were over a dozen feet in 
thickness. The middle of the fort was a swamp. The work was not 
finished when called upon to resist the tremendous assault of the fleet. 
The front was completed, and thirty-one guns were mounted on it. 
There was room for a thousand men, but the garrison numbered onlv 
four hundred. 

Copies of the royal proclamation offering pardon to such as would 
lay down their arms were sent to the patriots, but of course that work 
was thrown away. General Lee, the commanding American officer, 
watched the preparations making by Moultrie and shook his head. 

"It is impossible with these defenses to keep back the fleet," he 
said, with the positiveness of one who was sure he was right. " I do not 
believe you can hold out half an hour. The fort will be knocked all to 
pieces." 

''Then we'll lie behind the ruins," replied Moultrie, "and keep at it." 



34G SERGEANT WILLIAM JASPER. 

" Yoii have uo means of retreat," added Lee. " If you are defeated 
the slaughter will be dreadful." 

"We're not going to be defeated, general." 

This was brave talk, but it did not quiet the fears of the command- 
ing officer. He was in favor of abandoning the place, or at least of 
building a bridge of boats from the island to the mainland, but Colonel 
Moultrie was so urgent that Lee gave him his own way. 

Clinton and Cornwallis agreed that the best plan was to land on a 
sandbank, and then pass to Sullivan's Lsland by means of a certain ford 
said to exist at low water. On the 17th of June, twenty-five hundred 
British disembarked on this patch of sand, only to be tormented b}- 
mosquitoes, the blazing sun and a lack of good water. It was the worst 
time of the year for people unused to the flaming skies of the south. 
Aud now, when the invaders came to examine the supposed ford it was 
found to be fully seven feet deep at low water. It looked as if the only 
way to get across was for the soldiers to walk on stilts, to ride on each 
other's shoulders, or to swim. None of these methods could be adopted, 
and there was little prospect, therefore, of Clinton giving help to the fleet. 

BREASTWORKS GUARDED BY RIFLEMEN. 

After repeated delays, the attack was opened on the zSth of June, 
1776. Parker was confident he could reduce the fort and defeat the large 
body of Continentals encamped on tlie island in the rear of the fort. 
The Americans had an advanced post at one extremity of the island, 
where the men were protected by sand-hills and myrtle bushes, with 
breastworks thrown up in the rear, and guarded by a large number of 
riflemen. On the left was a morass, and on the right a couple of guns 
commanded the spot where it was expected Clinton would land his men. 

About the middle of the forenoon of that hot June day, the British 
fleet, numbering ten men-of-war, and carrying two hundred and fifty-four 
guns, sailed up the channel, the Bristol, flying Admiral Parker's pennant, 
being third in line. Over the fort fluttered the flag of South Carolina, 
blue in color, with a silver crescent and a single word, "Liberty." 



SERGEANT WILLIAM JASPER. 



347 



The garrison grimly awaited the approach of the ponderous hulls, 
slowh' sweeping forward, with a wealth of bellying canvas above. As 
the}^ swung one after another into range, Moultrie sent a few cannon 
balls whistling 
towards them, >^-^f^i ^| 

but the ships 'fSM^'f 

made no repl}- -^ -^ ~ > - 

until they had 
dropped anchor 
in position be- 
fore the lort. 
Then their 
"thunders shook 
t h e ni i g h t y 
deep." Spouts 
of flame shot 
from the throats 
of hundreds of 
cannon, and tons 
of metal went 
liurtlingoverthe 
water towards 
the fort. When 
the smoke clear- 
ed away, Ad- 
miral Parker 
and his officers 
expected to see 
the fortifications 
splintered and American marksman in a tree. 

shattered as if by a myriad of thunderbolts. General Lee and a vast 
crowd, many with glasses, intently watched the result from Charleston. 
There was scarcely a sign that the fort had been struck. The 




348 



SERGEANT WILLIAM JASPER. 



palmetto logs were the best material that could have been used. They are 
spongy and fibrous, and when struck by a cannon ball the wood does not 
splinter, but seems to absorb the metal. Of course, the he.ivy balls did 
~''i%^f IsSl \ ,^ some damage, 

and the sand 
often flew aloft 
in showers ; but 
the result was 
highly pleasing 
to the Ameri- 
cans and equally 
disappointing to 
the British. Ad- 
miral Parker, 
h o w e \- e r , con- 
cluded that it 
would merely 
take him ii little 
longer than was 
anticipated to 
demolish the de- 
fenses that dis- 
puted his pas- 
sage to the cit_v. 
Most of the 
shells that 
curved over into 
the fort fell into 
the marsh in the 
centre, where 

they were quenched by the water and mud, and sputtered out without 
harming anyone. No one could have shown more coolness and bravery 
than Colonel Mo;iltrie. He smoked his pipe, growled now and then 



I 




SERGEANT JASPER RLCOVI RS 1 HL FLAG AMIDST A FirR\ 
STORM OF SHOT AND SHELL. 



SERGEANF WILLIAM JASPER. 349 

as a twinge of gout shot through his leg, and, limping back and forth 
inspired all with his own courage The weather was excessively hot, 
and banks of sulphurous vapor almost suffocated the defenders, as they 
fought half naked. Their well-aimed shots crashed through the rigging 
and hulls of the ships with tremendous effect. 

Suddenly the flag at the southeast bastion fell to the beach. The 
flagstaff had been cut in two by a ball from one of the vessels. Sergeant 
William Jasper bounded through one of the embrasures, seized the 
ensign, climbed the wall amid a furious fire, waved the flag defiantl}' at 
the enemy, and securing it on a pike, coolly fixed it in place, and jumped 
down among his comrades. It was a magnificent deed of valor. 

AMERICAN SHOTS VERY DESTRUCTIVE. 

The British showed great braver}', but the}' could not equal the 
damage inflicted by the American shots, aimed with so much skill. 
Everybody on the quarter-deck of the flag-ship Bristol was either killed 
or wounded ; and, for a time. Admiral Parker was the only one who 
stood there unhurt. Captain Morris was struck in the neck, and shortly 
after his right arm was shattered by a chain shot. He passed quietly 
below, had his arm amputated and dressed, after which he returned to 
the quarter-deck, where he continued to direct the action of the ship 
until a shot passed through his body and his voice was hushed forever. 

Toward the latter part of the day, the hopes of the assailants were 
raised by the slackening of the American fire. It looked as if the fleet 
was about to prevail, and the faces of the spectators in far away Charles- 
ton paled with anxiety. But Colonel Moultrie never dreamed of yielding. 
He filled his pipe again, and sent word to General Lee that his ammuni- 
tion was low, and that he must have more at once. At that time onl}^ 
enough was left for the musketry, in case the British landed. 

Moultrie had asked for ammunition earlier in the day. Now, when 
he saw how bravely his men were fighting while he hobbled painfully 
about, it is not 'strange that he lost patience and used some vigorous 
language, because his request for a time was unheeded. When he first 



350 SKRGKANT WILLIAM JASPER. 

applied to Lee, the general was not inclined to grant his request, reply- 
ing that if the ammuuitiou was expended he should spike his guns and 
retreat. Governor Rutledge, who was in Charleston, forwarded five 
hundred pounds of powder to Moultrie with the request that he should 
not be quite so free with his cannon, and two hundred pounds were re- 
ceived from a schooner lying at the back of the fort. 

During the afternoon some reinforcements were sent by Lee with 
orders to support the advance guard under Thompson, at the east end of 
the island. A little later, General Lee went over to Moultrie and sighted 
several of the cannon. Struck with the skill and courage of the patriots, 
he said with a smile : '' I don't think I am needed here, colonel ; I will 
go back to town and tell the folks how well you are getting along." 

EXPEDITION AGAINST CHARLESTON ABANDONED. 

Lee took his departure. The day was verj- long, but when the sun 
went down, and darkness crept over the harbor and cit}', the fire still 
contitiued. The thousands that were gazing in the direction of the com- 
batants could see only the red flash of the ships' broadsides and the 
answering crimson jet from the walls of the fort, and could hear, after 
hmg intervals, the resounding boom of the cannon. 

It was nine o'clock when Admiral Parker, who was slightly wounded 
decided to withdraw. The ships slipped their cables, and the expedition 
against Charleston was abandoned. The British had lost two hundred 
and five men killed and wounded, while of the Americans ten were killed 
and twenty-nine wounded. Three of the vessels had grounded on a sand 
bank. Two of them were got off during the night, and the third was 
fired and abandoned by the crew. While she was burning, a number of 
Americans boarded her, captured her colors, fired some of the guns at 
Parker's squadron, filled three l)oats with her sails and stores, and got 
safely awaj' before she blew up. 

Nothing could be more complete than was the triumph of the 
Americans. The key to the sotxth, as it may be called, had been held 
against the utmost efforts of the British army and fleet, and that section 



SERGEANT WILLIAM JASPER. 351 

of our country was safe for the time. General Lee wrote to Washington 
that he was " captured " by the coolness and bravery of the defenders 
under twelve hours' fire. Had Colonel Moultrie been a young and vain 
man he would have been ruined by the praises he received. The fort was 
named for him, his regiment was presented with two beautiful banners, 
and congratulations poured on him from every quarter. All Charleston 
flocked to the fort after the departure of the fleet. General Lee admitted 
his mistake as to the .strength of the defenses. He reviewed the regiment 
on the 30th of June, the date of the presentation of colors by the ladies of 
Charleston. Governor Rutledge visited the garrison on the 4tli of July, 
and expressed the gratitude of South Carolina. Congress, at a later 
date, voted its thanks to Lee, Moultrie and Thompson, and to the officers 
and soldiers imder their command. Governor Rutledge presented 
Sergeant Jasper his own sword and a lieutenant's commission, but he 
modestly declined the latter on the ground that he could neither read 
nor write. 

Had not his education in his boyhood been neglected he might, by 
his native force of character and daring bravery, have risen to a high com- 
mand in the army. He will always be remembered, however, for his 
courageous act in rescuing the lost flag and planting it again in the face 
of the foe, despite the hot hail of battle that raged around him and 
threatened him every moment with death. 

One cannot read the history of the Revolution without coming upon 
the valiant deeds of such brave spirits as Sergeant Jasper, yet it is safe 
to say that a multitude of heroes have never been commemorated, and 
the story of their heroism has never been told. The best part of his- 
tory may be buried in obscurity. Without any thought of future fame, 
those old-time patriots stood nobly at the post of duty, and many of them 
died "unhonored and unsung." 

If we delve in the obscurity that shrouds the achievements of the 
iieroic souls who won our liberties, we should find names, all unknown, 
that are as shining as any now blazoned on the pages of history. 




I CHAPTER XXII. 

ii CAPTAIN NATHAN HALE. 

SENT BY WASHINGTON TO THE BRITISH 
CAMP FOR INFORMATION — CAPTURED AM) 
•l'RH:n AS A SPY — HIS HEROIC-CONDUCT — 
REGRET THAT HE HAD ONLY ONE LIFE 
TO LOSE FOR HIS COUNTRY — HIS NAME 
AND MEMORY HELD IN HIGHEST HONOR. 

The greenest of laurels should be placed on the head of the patriot 
who suffers for his country, and no one whom history has eulogized is 
more worthy of such honor than the young and noble hero, Nathan 
Hale. He was born of fine old Puritan stock in Coventry, Connecticut, 
June 6th, 1755. 

When the first guns of the Revolution sounded over the hills and 
vales of New England, Hale gave up his position as school teacher and 
was made captain in the patriot army under Washington. He imme- 
diately became noted for his manliness, covirage, obedience to duty, and 
braver}- in the face of danger. 

The battle of Long Island had been fought, and Washington's dis- 
pirited army was scattered up and down Manhattan Island. He was in 
complete ignorance of the movements of the enemy, who were com- 
manded by General Howe and were encamped on Long Island, holding 
possession of the shore along the East River for several miles. Wash- 
ington was eager to obtain information concerning their number and 
next probable movements. Upon such information depended his own 
movements and the fate of his arm}-. 

His appeals to American oflBcers, and to a French sergeant in thv; 
army to undertake the hazardous exploit of entering the British lines i.-J 



CAPTAIN NATHAN HALE. 



353 



a sp3^ brought no response. No one was willing to undertake so perilous 
au expedition. At this critical moment Captain Nathan Hale stepped 
ibrward and volunteered to go. His services were immediatelj- accepted. 
He well knew the dangerous nature of his mission, but did not shrink 
from it ; he was not the man to consult his own safetv when duty called. 
Hale passed in disguise to the British camp, but on his return was 
apprehended and carried before Lord William Howe, by whom he was 




k ''^^rm^'^^. 



-w,j .tiMt^^.MZ^ 




HALE, IN DISGUISE, ENTERS THE CAMP OF THE ENEMY, 
ordered for execution the next morning. He was denied a Bible and the 
aid of a clergyman. The letters full of fortitude and resignation which 
he had written to his mother and sister, were destroj^ed. 

As a spy, his execution would, of course, be public — we know that 
it was so — would be attended with the ordinary formalities — all that were 
calculated to strike terror — and with many in addition, for the purpose 
of accumulating disgrace — and in the case under consideration, we 
know, was accompanied with every contrivance which brutality could 
suggest to wound the sensibilities of the victim 

His arms then, probably, pinioned close behrud him — over his body 
a coarse white gown or jacket trimmed with black, the winding sheet of 
23 



354 CAPTAIN NATHAN HALE. 

the scaffold — on his head a cap of white, trimmed too with black— near 
liim a box of rough pine boards, his coffin, borne in a cart, or upon the 
shoulders of attendants — before him a guard leading the way — behind 
'aim another guard with loaded muskets and fixed bayonets — in the rear 
' )f these Cunningham, Provost Marshal, with other officers, as formal 
witnesses of the event — and near, mulatto Richmond, the common hang- 
man of the Provost, bearing a ladder, and with a coil of rope about his 
neck — such were the circumstances, it may fairly be presumed, under 
which Hale moved to the place of his execution — there where some tree 
sent out from its ill-omeued trunk a rigid horizontal limb, or where from 
among the bones of those already dead, two straight poles, supporting 
a cross beam in their crotches, shot into the air — and where, just beneath, 
a heap of earth, thrown freshly out, marked a new-made grave. 

CURIOUS CROWD SEES EXECUTION. 

Early morning as it was, the sun hardly risen, j'et quite a crowd 
was collected around the spot — many whom the fire in the city had 
kept out of their beds all night — men and women — a few American wag- 
oners, who, impressed from Long Island into the British forage service, 
happened to be in town — some soldiers and officers of the royal arm}-, 
and among these last that officer of the British Commissariat Depart- 
ment, whose narrative is one of our chief sources of information. 

But in all that crowd there was not one face familiar to Hale — not 
one voice to whisper a word of consolation to his dying agou}-. Yet 
though without a friend whom he knew — though denied that privilege 
granted usually to the meanest criminal, the attendance of a chaplaiu — 
though degraded by everv- external mark of ignominj' — j^etdid his spirit 
i;ot give wa}-. His gait, as he approached the gallows, in spite of his 
piuioned arms, was vipright and stead}-. No offending soldier to whom 
the choicer penaltj- has been assigned to receive the shot of his comrades, 
ever, in the midst ot sj-mpathy, and with the consciousness that he was 
allowed at least a soldier's death, marched more firmly to kneel upon his 
coffin than did Hale to meet the felon's doom. 



CAPTAIN NATHAN HALE. 355 

Through all the horror of his situation he maintained a deportment 
so dignified, a resolution so calm, a spirit so exalted by Christian readi- 
ness to meet his fate, and by the consciousness of duty done, and done 
in the holy cause of his country, that his face, we cannot but think, must 
have worn almost the aspect of a seraph's — lifted as it was at frequent 
intervals to heaven, and so radiant with hope, heroism, and resignation. 

REGRETS HE HAS ONLY ONE LIFE. 

Thus looking, he stood at last — the few simple preparations being 
ended — elevated on one of the rounds of the gallows ladder — ready for 
the fatal fall. The coarse voice of Cunningham, whose eye watched 
every arrangement, was now heard scoffingly demanding from his victim 
his dying speech and confession — as if hoping that the chaos of Hale's 
soul at that awful moment would lead him to utter some remark, strange 
or ridiculous, which might serve to glut the curiosity of the crowd, or be 
remembered as a kind of self-made epitaph by a "rebel captain." 

Never was torturer more cheated of his purpose — never a victim 
endowed with utterance more sublime ! One glance, it is said, at Cun- 
ningham — one slight momentary contraction of his features into con- 
tempt — and he turned his look, filled again with holy energy and sweetness 
upon the spectators — now impressed, most of them, with solemn awe — 
and some of them, the females, not forbearing to sob aloud. 

With a voice full, distinct, slow — which came mournfully thrilling 
from the very depths of his being — in words which patriotism will forever 
enshrine, and every monument to Hale's memorv sink deepest into its 
stone, and every temple of liberty blazon highest on its entablature — at 
the ver}- moment when the tightening knotted cord was to crush the life 
from his j-oung body forever — he ejaculated — as the last immortal testa- 
ment of his heroic soul to the world he was leaving — '' I only regret that 
I have but one life to lose for m}^ country ! " 

Maddened to hear a sentiment so sublime burst from the lips of the 
sufferer, and to witness visible signs of sympathy among the crowd 
Cunningham instantly shouted for the catastrophe to close. "Swing 



356 CAPTAIN NATHAN HALE. 

the rebel of?!" — we conceive we hear him vociferating even now — "swing 
him off!" The ladder disappeared — the cord strained from the creaking 
beam or bough — and with a sudden jerk, the body of Hale dangled con- 
viilsiveh' in the air. A few minutes fluttering to and fro — a few heavings 
of its noble chest — its manly limbs at moments sharply bent by the 
pang — it at last hung straight and motionless from its support. 

All was still as the chambers of death. The soul of the martyr 
had iled ! 

Major Andre was condemned as a spy within the American lines, and 
was ordered by Washington to be executed. Hon. Chauncey M. Depew 
thus contrasts the two men, Hale and Andre : "While Andre was tried 
by a board of officers, and had ample time and every facility for defence. 
Hale was summarily ordered to execution the next morning. While 
Andre's last wishes and bequests were sacredly followed, the infamous 
Cunningham tore from Hale his letters to his mother and sister, and 
asked him what he had to say : 'All I have to say,' was Hale's reply, 
' is that I regret that I have but one life to lose for ni}' country.' His 
death was concealed for months, because Cunningham said he did not 
want the rebels to know the}' had a man who could die so bravely. 

"And 3-et, while Andre rests in that grandest of mausoleums, where 
the proudest of nations garners the remains and perpetuates the mem- 
ories of its most eminent and honored, the name and deeds of Nathan 
Hale have passed into oblivion, and only a simple tomb in a village 
churchyard marks his resting-place. The dying declarations of Andre 
and Hale express the animating spirit of their several armies, and teach 
why, with all their power, England could not conquer America. ' I call 
upon you to witness that I die like a brave man,' said Andre, and he 
spoke from British and Hessian surroundings, seeking only glory and 
pay. 'I regret that I have only one life to lose for my countrj-,' said 
Hale ; and with him and his comrades self was forgotten in that absorbing, 
passionate patriotism which pledges fortune, honor and life to the sacred 
cause." 




CHAPTER XXIII. 

MOLLY PITCHER. 



HEROINE OF THE BATTLE OF MONMOUTH— 
'^^ TAKES THE PLACE OF HER HUSBAND WHO 

FELL IN THE FIGHT— HER COURAGE AND 
ENDURANCE — HER HISTORv — HER MONU- 
MENT AT CARLISLE. 






It was the custom durii:g the iVmerican Revolution for women, 
generally wives of private soldiers, to follow the armies into the field as 
laundry women. The records of Sir Henry Clinton's English army 
show this fact, and to some extent this was true of the Americans. 
Every regiment had women who did duty in laundering for the oflBcers 
and had quarters assigned them and wagons to carry them from 
place to place. The records of the battle of Monmouth show that these 
camp followers of Sir Henry's army were sent from Philadelphia around 
the Delaware Bay to New York in ships or transports. 

In Washington's army the same custom was followed. There were 
doubtless a number of women who followed Washington to Monmouth 
and so on to New Brunswick, and who, after the war, settled here and 
there throughout the country. 

Molly Pitcher's rijht name was Mary Ludwig. She was the daughter 
of John George Lxtdwig, and was born on October the 13th, 1744. She 
was employed as a domestic at Carlisle, Pennsylvania, in the family of 
General William Irvine. She was married to John Hays, a barber, July 
the 24th 1769. He enlisted in Proctor's First Pennsylvania Artillery, 
and was followed b}' his wife. 

No account of the battle of Monmouth is complete without this story 



358 MOLLY PITCHER. 

of Molly Pitcher. Some years ago the people of New Jersey built a 
monument on the field were the battle was fought. On this monument 
several scenes are pictured in bronze reliefs. The pictures are such as 
you might draw with your pencil on paper, only they are in bronze and 
so do not fade or wear out The fact that Molly is remembered on this 
monument shows that she did something worthy of honor. 

WORE A COCKED HAT AND FEATHER. 

As the story goes she was a powertul woman dressed in the skirts of 
her own sex, the coat of an artilleryman, cocked hat and feather. It 
was a strange and unprecedented thing for a woman to go into battle. It 
is only by absolute necessit}', in defence of right, justice and libert}', that 
man should ever be compelled to draw the sword, and all our natural 
instincts rebel against the thought of woman found on the battlefield, 
except to nurse the sick and wounded. Yet the sentiment of patriotism 
and love of country are no less strong in the gentler sex than in the 
masculine part of humanit}'. 

The battle of Monmouth was fought June 28, 177S. General 
Washington was the commander on the American side, and General 
Clinton on the other. Before the real battle commenced, one American 
battery and another English, that were not very far from each other, began 
a hot fire. Molly's husband was connected with the American batter}^ 
and was helping to serve the guns. The day was very warm and he and 
the other artillerymen suffered very much from thirst. IMolly was not 
far away watching the fight. She saw that the men were thirsty, and, 
obtaining a bucket, she began to bring water for them from a neighbor- 
ing spring. 

While thus engaged she saw her husband fall. She ran to his aid, 
but he was dead when she reached him. Just then poor Molly heard the 
ofl&cer order the gun removed, because, as he said, he could not fill the 
post with so brave a man as he had lost. Molly's patriotism got the 
better of her fear, and facing the officer, she asked to be allowed to take her 
husband's place. Her request was granted, and she handled the gun 



MOLLY PITCHER. :?5!) 

with sucli skill and courage that every one who saw her was filled with 
admiration. 

The attention of General Washington was called to Molly's brave 
act, and it has been said that he gave her the rank of sergeant, and she 
was granted half-pay during life. She was known afterward as Captain 
Molly. Her story is certainly a very thrilling one, and such as we 
seldom read in history. Men, you know, are expected to do the fighting 
and women to do the nursing, and for a woman to stand beside her dead 
husband and help to work a battery, with the battle raging around her 
like a hurricane, shows the heroic spirit by which she was actuated. 

RESOLVED TO AVENGE HER HUSBAND'S DEATH. 

An additional account of Molly's story, much the same as already 
narrated, is as follows: 

The particular incident of the battle of Monmouth, in which Molly 
made such a name for herself, may be described as follows: The enemj- 
having attacked Livingstone's and Varnum's brigade, which lined a hedge 
row across an open field, .some American artillery took post on a knoll 
in the rear of this fence, but the British cavalry and a large body of in- 
fantry, skilled in the use of the bayonet, charging upon the Americans, 
broke their ranks. It was during this part of the action that Mollj' dis- 
pla3^ed great courage and presence of mind. 

While her husband was managing one of the field pieces, she con- 
stantly brought him water from a spring near b3^ A shot from the enemj^ 
killed him at his post, and the officer in command, having no man able to 
fill his place, ordered the piece to be withdrawn. Molly saw her husband 
fall as she came from the spring, and also heard the order. She dropped 
her bucket, seized the rammer, and vowed that she would fill the place of 
her husband at the gun and avenge his death. 

She performed the duty with a skill and courage which attracted the 
attention of all who saw hei\ On the following morning, covered with 
dirt and blood, General Greene presented her to Washington, who, admir- 
ing her bravery, conferred upon her the commission of sergeant. The 



360 MOLLY PITCHER. 

French officers, charmed by the storj' of her bravery, made her many 
presents. She would sometimes pass along the French lines with her 
cocked hat, and get it almost filled with crowns. 

Some years after the thrilling incident at Monmouth she married 
George McKolly, another soldier; this name was also written McCauley, 
and so appears on Molly's tombstone. She lived for many years at the 
Carlisle Barracks after the Revolution, cooking and washing for the 
soldiers. Subsequently she kept a small store in Carlisle. 

Bold Molly of Monmouth's Home was for years one of the show 
places of Carlisle, and it really seems a pity that the time at last came 
when this relic of one of the most famous characters of the Revolutionary 
period had to be torn down. In the cemetery left to the city by William 
Penn, Molly Pitcher's monument is to be seen among the graves of the 
old inhabitants, bearing the following inscription: 

MOLLIE McCAULEY 
Renowned in History as 

' ' MoLLiE Pitcher " , 
The Heroine of Monmouth. 

Died January 22, 1823, 
Aged Seventy-nine Years. 
Erected by the Citizens of Cumberland County, 
July the Fourth, 1876. 

Molly was a type of those brave women who in various ways 
rendered important services to our resolute patriots in the Revolution. 
Women cheered their husbands, sons and lovers on to victory. They 
endured the toil, sacrifices and bereavements without murmi;ring or 
complaint. To them largely is due the credit for our victories, mau}^ of 
them gained only by the most desperate valor. They counted nothing 
dear to them in the great cause that meant either liberty or death. 




CHAPTER XXIV. 

NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

MARVELOUS MILITARY GENIUS — FROM AN OB- 
SCURE CORPORAL TO A WORLD-RENOWNED 
EMPEROR — PERSONAL TRAITS AND PECU- 
LIARITIES — DOWNFALL AT WATERLOO- 
BANISHMENT AND DEATH — ONE OF THE 
MOST FAMOUS CHARACTERS IN HISTORY. 

Napoleon Bonaparte, one of the most remarkable characters recorded 
in history, and distinguished alike for his extraordinary fortunes, his 
civil talents, and his military genius, was one of the numerous family 
of an advocate of Ajaccio, in Corsica, and was born there August 15, 
1769. After receiving the rudiments of a classical education, he entered 
the military school at Brienne, where he was distinguished by the 
gravity of his character and his sedulous study of mathematics. 

Even his sports partook of his graver pursuits, and we are told that 
he was successful in the little military operations which he undei-took. 
On the occurrence of a day which was commonly considered a holiday, 
Bonaparte's instructors confined him and his companions to the school 
grounds. The young engineer constructed a mine with great ingenuity, 
which, in exploding, blew down the walls and enabled the juvenile rebels 
to escape. When he could enlist no young recruits in his mimic army. 
Napoleon would use flints as substitutes for soldiers, and marshal them 
with great care. 

A boy who disturbed his array was severely punished by Napoleon. 
Many years after when the imperial diadem was on his head, Napoleon 
was informed that one of his old schoolmates desired an interview. This- 
gentleman assured the chamberlain that the emperor would recollect 

361 



362 



NAPOLKON BONAPARTE. 



liim if He mentioned that there was a deep scar on his forehead. When 
the emperor was informed of this he said, " I do not forget how he got 
that scar — I threw a general at his head at Brienne." 

At sixteen he received the commission of second lieutenant in the 
regiment of Lafere, which he joined at Valence. At twent}' he was pro- 
moted to a captaincy, and in December, 1793, obtained the command of 
the artillery in tlie attack on Toulon, then occupied by the English, and 












MALMAISON— FAVORITE RESIDENCE OF NAPOLEON I. 

contributed by the originality of his plans to the success of their opera- 
tions. In 1794 he was commandant of the artillerv in the army of Italy, 
and so much distinguished himself that in May, 1795, he was made 
general of infantr}'. In 1795, when some of the sections of Paris rose 
in insurrection against the convention, the command of the conventional 
troops was entrusted to him and he gained a complete victory. He was 
at that time verj' thin, although distinguished for corpulency in the 
latter part of his life. 

On one occasion he gained a bloodless Anctorv over the rabble whose 



NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 



363 



exertions were stimulated by a very fat old woman. " There," cried she, 
"look at the soldiers ! they're the wretches that fatten in idleness while 
we starve." " Look at her and look at me," said Napoleon, " and tell us 
which is the fattest." This raised a laugh, and the populace dispersed 

l!IP!ii 




BONArAuri-: ihssolvixg the council of five hundred. 
quietly. On this, as ou many other occasions, his knowledge of human 
nature was apparent. 

In his twenty-sixth year, Napoleon was appointed commander-in- 
chief of the army of Italy, and commenced his brilliant operations in 
that capacity, in April, 1796. He successively defeated the Austrians 
and Piedmontese at Montenotte, Millesimo, Mondovi and Lodi, forcing 
the king of Sardinia to make peace, and overrunning Lombardy, the 
Venetian States, the States of the Chureli, and Naples, in spite of every 



364 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

exertion of the Austrians and their allies, during which he gained a 
series of brilliant and decisive victories, and compelled Austria, in 1797, 
to make peace at Campo Formio. 

In 1798, he took the command of the army destined against Egypt, 
and on his passage from Toulon captured Malta. He afterwards landed 
at Alexandria and overran Egypt and Syria, everywhere victorious 
except at Acre, where, for want of besieging artillery, he was repulsed 
by Sir Sydney Smith. In October, 1799, the misgovernment of France 
and the disasters which had befallen the French troops induced him to 
return, and being received as a savior by the French nation, on the 9th 
of November he effected a revolution in Paris and was proclaimed first 
consul of the republic by general public consent. 

CROSSED THE ALPS WITH HIS ARMY. 

After offers of peace to the confederates, which were rejected, he 
crossed the Alps with an army of recruits, and in June, 1800, gained the 
battle of Marengo and re-acquired possession of Italy. A general peace 
was the consequence. In 1802, he was elected consul for life, and in 
May, 1804, he assumed the title of Napoleon I, Emperor of the French, 
and on December 2, was crowned at Paris by the Pope. In March, 1805, 
he was declared king of Italy, and in May crowned at Milan. He had 
previousl}' established his military order of the Legion of Honor and 
distributed the crosses which were the distinguishing badges. 

Of all to whom the cross of the legion of honor was tendered, Eafayette 
alone had the courage to decline it. Napoleon, either from want of true 
perception of moral greatness, or because the detestable servility of re- 
turning emigrants had taught him to think there was no such thing as 
honor or independence in man, exclaimed, when they told him that 
Lafayette refused the decoration, " What, will nothing satisfy that man, 
but the chief command of the National Guard of the Empire ?" Yes, 
much less abundantly satisfied him — the quiet possession of the poor 
remnants of his estate, enjoyed without sacrificing his principles. 

In September, 1805, the confederacy of European powers being 




CORONATION OF NAPOLEON. 



305 



366 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

renewed, be invaded Germany, and at Ulni captured 30,000 Austrians. In 
November lie entered Vienna, and on December 2, gained the battle of 
Austerlitz, over the emperors of Russia and Austria, after which he con- 
cluded peace with Austria, created the electors of Bavaria and Wirtem- 
berg kings, and made his elder brother, Joseph, king of Naples. In 
October, 1806, he invaded Prussia, and on the 3d of that month gained a 
decisive victory at Jena and Auerstadt, by which the whole Prussian 
monarchy, and Germany to the Baltic, came under his authority. 

TERROR OF NAPOLEON'S NAME. 

The " Man of Destiny" had now filled Europe with the terror of his 
name, the bare mention of which shook the crowned heads of the oldest 
monarchies of the continent with palsied apprehension. In vain the 
dagger, the mine, and the bowl had been prepared for him. His star had 
not yet begun to decline from the zenith. Napoleon was almost 
miraculously preserved from poison. It is well known that he was an 
inveterate snuff-taker. When his mind was deeply engaged his snuff- 
box was in constant requisition. He once left his apartment for a few 
moments, and returned to take his box from the mantelpiece. He thought 
the snuff felt somewhat strangely, and calling to a dog that was l3'ing near 
him, administered a pinch. The poor animal soon rolled over in the 
agonies of death, and Napoleon thenceforth kept his snuff in his waistcoat 
pockets, which he had sheathed with tin. 

November 20th, he promulgated at Berlin the famous decree by which 
he proposed to exclude the trade of Britain from all the ports of the con- 
tinent. In June, 1807, having overrun Poland, he totally defeated the 
emperor of Russia at Eglan and Friedland, after which an interview took 
place between them on a raft on the Niemeu, followed by the treaty of 
Tilsit. In Novemberof that year he marched an army into Lisbon, driving 
the Portuguese court to the Brazils; and on December i, created his 
younger brother, Jerome, king of Westphalia. On May 5, 1808, was con- 
cluded the treaty by which Charles IV ceded to the emperor all his rights 
in the crown of Spain. Joseph, brother of the emperor, was proclaimed 



NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 



367 



king of Spain on the 6tli of June. On the 27th of September, in the same 
year, Napoleon had an amicable interview with the emperor of Russia at 




BATTLE OF AUSTERLITZ. 

Erfurt, and they jointly proposed peace with England, which was rejected. 
On the 29th of October the emperor departed from Paris and placed 



368 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

himself at tlie head of the army in Spain, the right wing of which pur- 
sued Sir John Moore to Corunna, while he marched to Madrid and seated 
his brother on the Spanish throne ; but in the meantime the Austrians 
took the field; Napoleon hastened to oppose them, and gained suc- 
cessive victories at Abensburg, Eckmuhl and Ratisbon. On the i6th 
of December, 1809, he divorced the empress, Josephine, and on the 2d 
of April, 1810, married Maria Louisa, archduchess of Austria. The 
20th of March, 181 1, was signalized by the birth of his son, who was 
crowned king of Rome amidst public rejoicings. 

DISASTROUS CAMPAIGN AGAINST MOSCOW. 

In 1812, he assembled a great .army in Poland and invaded Russia, 
and having at the Borodino, and at Moskwa, gained two bloody victories, 
he entered Moscow on the 14th of September ; that city, having been 
afterwards burned b\' the Russians, became untenable, and the French 
retreated for winter qiiarters towards Poland, but an early and unusual 
frost setting in during their march, they lost their horses, were com- 
pelled to abandon their artillery, and three-fourths of the armj^ perished 
or were made prisoners. On this Napoleon returned to Paris, and Poland 
and Prussia were occupied by the Russians. 

In April, 181 3, Napoleon again took the field against the Prussians 
and gained the victories of Lutzeu, Bautzen and Wartzen; but the Aus- 
trians and Bavarians joined the confederacy against him, and he was 
attacked at Leipsic by the combined armies of the European nations, 
being forced to abandon that city with immense loss, and retreat to Metz, 
thereby abandoning his German conquests. In 1814, the confederates 
having passed the Rhine, penetrated, after various battles, to Paris, which 
being surrendered by Marshals Marmont and Mortier, Napoleon concluded 
i treaty with the allies at Fontainebleau, by which he agreed to retire to 
the island of Elba, with provision for himself and family. 

In March, 1815, Napoleon embarked with 600 of his guards and 
made a sudden descent in Provence. On the loth, he entered Lyons ; on 
the 20th, Paris in triumph. His banners flew from steeple to steeple, 




KETREAT OF IHE FRENCH FROM MOSCOW. 



369 



J70 



NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 



until they finally waved iu the wind from the pinnacles of Notre Dame. 
On the 1st of June, he held the meeting iu the Champ de Mar, and soon 
joined the arm\- on the Belgian frontier, where, on the i6th, he defeated 
Bliicher at Ligny with a loss of 22,000 men. On the iSth, was fought 
the bloody battle of Waterloo, iu which the French arm}* was coiu- 
pletely defeated. The following account of the conduct of Napoleon 
at the battle of Waterloo is from the journal of a French officer: 

"He has ruined us — he 
has destroyed France and him- 
self; — yet I love him still. It 
is impossible to be near him 
and not to love him : he has 
so much greatness of soul — 
such majesty of manner. He 
bewitches all minds; approach 
^m him with a thousand preju- 
b^^ dices, and vou quit him filled 
with admiration : but then, 
his mad ambition! his ruinous 
infatuation ! his obstinac}- 
without bounds ! Besides, he 
was wont to set everything 
upon a cast : his game was 
^ all or nothing ! Even the bat- 
THE ARCH OF TRIUMPH -PARIS. tie of Waterloo might have 

been retrieved, had he not charged with the guard. This was the reserve 
of the armj^, and should have been employed in covering his retreat 
instead of attacking ; but, with him, whenever matters looked desperate, 
he resembled a mad dog. He harangues the guard — he puts himself at 
its head — it debouches rapidly — it rushes upon the enemy. 

" We are mowed down by grape — we waver, — turn our backs — and tht 
rout is complete. A general disorganization of the arm\' ensues, and 
Napoleon, returning to himself, is cold as a stone. The last time I saw 




NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 



371 



him was in returning from the charge, when all was lost. My thigh had 
been broken by a musket shot in advancing, and I remained in the rear, 
extended on the ground. Napoleon passed close to me ; his nose was 
buried in his snuff-box, and his bridle fell loosely on the neck of his 




NAPOLEON AFTER THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 

horse, which was pacing leisurely along. A Scotch regiment was ad- 
vancing at the charge in the distance. The Emperor was almost alone. 
Lallemande only was with him. The latter still exclaimed, ' All is not 
lost sire ; all is not lost ; — rally, soldiers, rally!' The Emperor replied 
not a word. Lallemande recognizes me in passing, ' What ails you, 
Raoul !' ' My thigh is shattered by a musket ball.' ' Poor devil, how 



I 

372 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 

I pity you ! how I pity you ! Adieu— adieu I " The emperor said not a 
word. 

" When, after the disaster at Waterloo, Napoleon came back in 
desperation to Paris, and began to scatter dark hints of dissolving the 
representatives Chamber, repeating at Paris the catastrophe of Moscow, 1 
and thereby endeavoring to rouse the people of France to one universal 
and frantic crusade of resistance, Lafaj^ette was the first to denounce the 
wild suggestion. He proposed a series of resolutions, announcing that 
the independence of the nation was threatened, declaring the Chambers 
a permanent body, and denouncing the instant penalties of high treason 
against all attempts to dissolve it. The same evening he proposed, in 
the secret assembly of the council of state, the abdication of Napoleon. 
The subject was again pressed the following day ; but the voluntary act 
of the emperor anticipated the decision." 

SURRENDERED HIMSELF TO HIS CONQUERORS. 

On the 8th of July, the king returned to Paris ; and on the 15th of 
Jul}', Napoleon surrendered himself to the English at Rochefort. He 
only asked permission to pass the remainder of his days in England, 
under an assumed name, and in a private character, but he was conveyed 
to St. Helena, as a prisoner of state. A few officers of his suite accom- 
panied him. In the island he was treated with great indignity and 
meanness until his death, which was the result of an intestine disorder, 
and took place May 5, 1821. In his last moments, he was delirious, and 
his last words — tete d^ armee — proved that he fancied himself at the head 
of his troops, watching the fluctuating current of a battle. He was buried 
in a little valley where a simple slab marks the place of his repose. In 
1S40, his remains were removed to Paris and placed in a magnificent 
mausoleum under an imposing dome. 

Napoleon, in person, was below the middle size; and, in the latter 
part of his life, quite corpulent. His straight, brown hair fell over a broad, 
high forehead ; his complexion was clear olive, and his features, regular 
and classical. An air of subdued melancholy was the prevailing charac- 



NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 373 

teristicof his countenance in repose ; but he had the power of dismissing 
all expression from his features, when he chose to baffle scrutiny. At 
such times the curious observer might gaze upon his still, grey eve and 
quiet lip without finding any indication of the thoughts which were pass- 
ing within. 

Napoleon was ambitious — and committed some of the crimes to which 
ambition leads. He drenched the sands of Egypt and the snows of 
Russia, and the plains of Germany, and Italy, and Spain with the best 
blood of France and the best of Europe : yet he was not destitute of the 
feelings of humanity, and, as he rode over a field heaped with the dead 
and dying victims of his ambition, his fine eye would fill with tears. 
But feeling without repentance is of no avail. Yet if Napoleon was 
lavish of the lives of others, he was no less prodigal of his own ; and 
often proved that he possessed a soldier's soul, amidst the hottest fire of 
the enemy. If he laid his grasp upon nations — 

" Their ransom did the general coffers fill." 

He often pardoned, but he never failed to reward. It was thus that 
he attached his soldiers to him with indissoluble bonds. A thousand 
proofs may be given of their attachment to their emperor. At Waterloo 
one man was seen, whose left arm was shattered by a cannon ball, to 
wrench it off with the other, and throwing it up in the air, he exclaimed 
to his comrades, Vive r Empcreur! When he took his final farewell of 
France, all wept, but particularly Savary, and a Polish officer who had 
been exalted from the ranks by Bonaparte. He clung to his master's 
knees ; wrote a letter to Lord Keith, entreated permission to accompanj^ 
him, even in the most menial capacity, which could not be granted. 

With men like these to follow him. Napoleon had the power of 
choosing his own course. Circumstances did not force him into the path 
he followed : — he was, in a degree, the controller of his fate — a free agent, 
with ample means to gratify his wishes. He might have been a Wash- 
ington — he preferred to be a Caesar. 




DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 



HERO OF WATERLOO— COMMANDER OF ALLIED ARMIES 
AGAINST NAPOLEON — HIGHEST HONORS BESTOWED 
ON HIM— HIS NOBLE CHARACTER AND RENOWNED 
ACHIEVEMENTS— DISTINGUISHED IN PEACE AS WELL 
AS IN WAR^LONG AND BRILLIANT CAREER. 



!| 

Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellingtou, the celebrated English 
general and statesman, was born May ist, 1769, at Dungan Castle, 
County Meatn, Ireland, or, as some authorities state, in Dublin. He was 
educated at Eton, and at the Military School of Angers, France, and 
after serving with distinction in Flanders, went to India (then governed 
by his brother, the Earl of Mornington, afterwards Alarquis Wellesley) 
with the rank of colonel. In that country he soon became commander- 
in-chief of the British and native forces, and routed the Mahrattas at 
Assaye, 1799. He had a formidable foe to contend with and proved his 
abilitj- as a masterly leader of his troops. 

The Mahrattas were a bod}' of wild and warlike mountaineers, who, 
for several centuries, resisted lawful authority and were in a state of 
almost constant rebellion. After many long and bloody contests with 
the British and their allies, they were at length subdued and reduced to 
a state of dependence, the finishing stroke being inflicted by Wellington. 
In this sanguinary struggle he distinguished himself as a commander 
and gave promise of his future brilliant career. 

After his return home, he was sent in command of a division into 
Denmark, and there defeated the Danes at Kivge. Next, he was des- 
patched into Spain, previously resigning the office of Chief Secretary for 

Ireland, to which he had been appointed in 1S07. His exploits in Spain 
374 



DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 



375 



and Portugal are identitied with the chief events of the Peninsular War, 
as it is called. Defeating the French at Oporto, 1809, Wellington 
crossed the Douro, and, entering Spain, defeated them again at Talavera. 
Constructing the lines of Torres Vedras, he gained the victory of Busaco, 
followed by those of Sadubal, Fuentes d'Onore, and Albuera, and in 1812 




HA'ITLE OF BUS.A.CO. 

stormed Ciudad Rodrigo and took Badajoz. In the same year he defeated 
the French at Salamanca, drove them out of Madrid, occupied Burgos, and 
in 181 3, encountered and defeated them at Vittoria. Retreating out of 
Spain, he followed in pursuit, and fought the "Battles of the Pyrenees," 
and, early in 18 14, gained the victories of Orthez and Toulouse, after 
which hostilities were suspended by the abdication of Napoleon. On the 
return of the latter from Elba in 181 5, Wellington was appointed com- 



376 DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 

mander-iu-chief of the allied army dispatched to resist his invasion 
of Flanders. 

After the opening battles of Ligny and Quatre Bras, the Dnke 
encountered Napoleon on the plain of Waterloo, June 15, and after an 
obstinate and bloody struggle, once more was victorious. Entering Paris 
in the July following, he prevented Bliicher, who commanded the Prus- 
sians, from destroying the Bridge of Jena, and committing other acts of 
vandalism; and by favoring the restoration of Louis XVIII., prevented 
the dismemberment of France. Appointed to the command of the arm}- 
of occupation in that country, Wellington, by his influence, prevailed 
upon the allied powers to shorten the term from five to three years. In 
1827, he succeeded the Duke of York as commander-in-chief, and in 
1828 became prime minister of England, and in 1834 Secretarjr for 
Foreign Affairs in Sir Robert Peel's cabinet. 

BATTLE THAT CHANGED THE MAP OF EUROPE. 

Wellington won his proudest distinction at the battle of Waterloo, 
where, in one of the most gigantic and bloody struggles known to 
histor}', he overthrew Napoleon, put an end to his brilliant, meteoric 
career, and changed the map of Europe. We present the reader with a 
full and accurate accoixnt of this great battle, in which Wellington 
showed his masterl}- and heroic qualities as a military commander. 

The great battle which ended the twent}- -three years' war of the first 
French Revolution, and which quelled the extraordinary man whose 
genius and ambition had so long dominated the world, is justly regarded 
as one of those remarkable events that appear at long intervals and deter- 
mine the fate of nations. liurope, long tossed by wars and convulsions, 
at length breathed peacefully. Suddenly Napoleon Bonaparte escaped 
from Elba and the whole scene was changed as if by the magic of an evil 
spirit. The exertions which the allied powers made at this crisis to 
grapple promjitly with the French emperor have truly been termed 
gigantic, and never were Napoleon's genius and activity more signal!}- 
displayed than in the celerity and skill by which he brought forward all 



DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 



577 




THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON— COMMANDER OF THE ALLIED ARMIES. 

the military resources of* France, wliicli the reverses of the three preced- 
ing years, and the pacific policy of the Bourbons during the months of 
their first restoration, had greatly diminished and disorganized. 




^1 k 3 

illK i i ^ 



DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 379 

He re-entered Paris on the 20th of March, 1815, and by the end of 
May, besides sending a force into La Vendee to put down the armed 
risings of the Royalists in that province, and besides providing troops 
under Massena and Sachet for the defense of the southern frontiers of 
France, Napoleon had an army assembled in the northeast for active 
operations under his own command, which amounted to between 120 and 
130,000 men, with a superb park of artillerj-, and in the highest possible 
state of equipment, discipline and efficiency. 

The approach of the many Russians, Austrians, Bavarians and other 
foes of the French emperor to the Rhine was necessarily slow; but the 
two most active of the allied powers had occupied Belgium with their 
troops while Napoleon was organizing his forces. Marshal Bliicher was 
there with 116,000 Prussian.s, and the Duke of Wellington was there also 
with about 106,000 troops, either British or in British pay. 

BATTLEFIELD WITH RIDGES AND VALLEYS. 

The reader may gain an accurate idea of the localities of the battle 
by picturing a valley between two and three miles long, but generally 
not exceeding half a mile in breadth. On each side of the vallev there 
is a winding chain of low hills, running somewhat parallel with each 
other. The declivity from each of these ranges of hills to the inter- 
vening valley is gentle but not uniform, the undulations of the ground 
being frequent and considerable. The English army was posted on the 
northern, and the French army occupied the southern ridge. 

The artillery of each side thundered at the other from their respective 
heights throughout the day, and the charges of horse and foot were made 
across the valley that has been described. The village of Mont St. Jean 
is situated a little behind the centre of the northern chain of hills, and 
the village of La Belle Alliance is close behind the centre of the southern 
ridge. The high road from Charleroi to Brussels runs through both 
these villages, and bisects, therefore, both the Bnglish and the French 
positions. The line of this road was the line of Napoleon's intended 
advance on Brussels. 



380 DUKP: of WELLINGTON. 

There are some other local particulars connected with the situation 
of each army which it is necessary to bear in mind. The strength of the 
British position did not consist merely in the occupation of a ridge of 
high ground. A village and ravine, called Merk Braine, on the Duke of 
Wellington's extreme right, secured him from his flank being turned on 
that side ; and on his extreme left, two little hamlets, called La Haye and 
Papillote, gave a similar though a slighter protection. It was, however, 
less necessary to provide for this extremity of the position, as it was on 
this (the eastern) side that the Prussians were coming up. 

WATCHED EACH OTHER ANXIOUSLY. 

Behind the whole British position was the great and extensive forest 
of Soignies. No attempt was made by the French to turn either of the 
English flanks, and the battle was a day of straghtforward fighting. 

The night of the 17th was wet and stormy; and when the dawn of 
the memorable iSthof June broke, the rain was still descending heavily. 
The French and British armies rose from their dreary bivouacs and began 
to form, each on the high ground which it occupied. Toward nine, the 
weather grew clearer, and each army was able to watch the position and 
arrangements of the other on the opposite side of the valley. 

The two armies were now fairly in presence of each other, and their 
mutual observation was governed by the most intense interest and the 
most scrutinizing anxiety. In a still greater degree did these feelings 
actuate their commanders, while watching each other's preparator}' 
movements, and minutely scanning the surface of the arena on which 
tactical skill, habitual prowess, physical strength, and moral courage 
were to decide, not alone their own, but in all probability-, the fate of 
Europe. 

Apart from national interest and considerations, and viewed solely 
in connection wdth the opposite characters of the two illustrious chiefs, 
the approaching contest was contemplated with anxious solicitude by the 
whole military world. Need this create surprise when we reflect that 
the struggle was one for mastery between the far-famed conqueror of 



DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 381 

Italy and the victorious liberator of the Peninsula; between the tri- 
umphant vanquisher of Eastern Europe, and the bold and successful 
invader of the south of France ! Never was the issue of a single battle 
looked forward to as involving consequences of such vast importance — 
of such universal influence. 

It was approaching noon before the action commenced. Napoleon, 
in his memoirs, gives as tlie reason for this delaj-, the miry state of the 
ground through the heavy rain of the preceding night and day, which 
rendered it impossible for cavahy or artillery to manoeuvre on it until a 
few hours of drj- weather had given it its natural consistenc}-. It has 
been supposed, also, that he trusted to the effect which the sight of the 
imposing array of his own forces was likely to produce on the part of the 
allied army. 

The Belgian regiments had been tampered with ; and Napoleon had 
well founded hopes of seeing them quit the Duke of Wellington in a 
bod}-, and range themselves under his own eagles. The duke, however, 
who knew and did not trust them, had guarded against the risk of this 
by breaking up the corps of Belgians, and distributing them in separate 
regiments among troops on whom he could rely. 

BEGAN BATTLE WITH FIERY VALOR. 

At last, at about half past eleven o'clock, Napoleon began the battle 
by directing a powerful force from his left wing under his brother, Prince 
Jerome, to attack Hongoumont. Column after column of the French now 
descended from the west to the southern heights, and assailed that post 
with fiery valor, which was encountered with the most determined 
bravery. The French won the copse round the house, but a party of the 
British Guards held the house itself throughout the day. With varjdng 
fortunes and heroic bravery on both sides the battle continued. 

The second line of the allies consisted of two brigades of the English 
infantry, which had suffered severely at Quatre Bras. But they were 
under Picton, and not even Ney himself surpassed in resolute bravery 
that stern and fiery spirit. Picton brought his two brigades forward, side 



382 DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 

bv side, in a tliin, two-deep line. Thus joiued together, they were not 
3000 strong. With these Pictou had to make head against the three 
victorious French columns, upward of four times that strength, and who, 
encouraged by the easy rout of the Dutch and Belgians, now came con- 
fidently over the ridge. 

The British infantry stood firm ; and as the French halted and began 
to deploy into Hue, Pictou seized the critical moment : a close and deadly 
volley was thrown in upon them, and then with a fierce hurrah the British 
dashed in with the bavonet. The French reeled back in confusion ; and 
as thev staggered down the hill, a brigade of the English cavalry rode in 
on them, cutting them down by whole battalions, and taking 2000 pris- 
oners. The British cavalry galloped forward and sabred the artiller}'- 
men of Ney's seventy-four advanced guns, and then cutting the traces 
and the throats of the horses, rendered these guns totally useless to the 
French throughout the remainder of the day. In the excitement of success, 
the English cavalry continued to press on, but were charged in their turn, 
and driven back with severe loss b}- IMilhaud's cuirassiers. 

FAILURE OF THE FURIOUS ATTACK. 

This great attack (in repelling which the brave Pictou had fallen) 
had now completely failed ; and, at the same time, a powerful bod\- of 
French cuirassiers, who were advancing along the right of the Charleroi 
road, had been fairly beaten after a close hand-to-hand fight by the heavy 
cavalry of the English household brigade. Hougoumont was still being 
assailed, and was successfuU}' resisting. 

Troops were now beginning to appear at the edge of the horizon on 
Napoleon's right, which he too well knew to be Prussians, though he 
eudeavoredto persuade his followers that they were Grouch3''s men coming 
to aid them. It was now about half-past three o'clock ; and though 
Wellington's army had suffered severely by the unremitting cannonade 
and in the late desperate encounter, no part of the British position had 
been forced. Napoleon next determined to try what effect he could 
produce on the British centre and right by charges of his splendid cavalry, 



DUKK OF WELLINGTON. 



383 




Its ^ 



HEROIC CHARGE OF THE ENGLISH CAVALRY AT WATERLOO. 

brought on in such force that the duke's cavalry could not check them. 

Fresh troops were sent to assail La Haye Sainte and Hougoumont, 

the possession of these posts being the emperor's unceasing object. 



384 DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 

Squadron after squadron of the French cuirassiers accordingly ascended 
the slopes on the duke's right, and rode forward with dauntless courage 
against the batteries of the British artillery' in that part of the field. The 
artillery-men were driven from their guns, and the cuirassiers cheered 
loudly- at their supposed triumph. But the duke had formed his infantry 
in squares, and the cuirassiers charged in vain against the impenetrable 
hedges of bayonets, while the fire from the inner ranks of the squares 
told with terrible effect on their squadrons. 

Time after time they rode forward with invariably the same result ; 
and as they receded from each attack, the British artillerymen rushed 
forward from the centres of the squ^i'es, where they had taken refuge, 
and plied their guns on the retiring horsemen. Nearly the whole of 
Napoleon's magnificent body of heavy cavalry was destroyed in these 
fruitless attempts upon the British right. 

\A^ATERLOO OR HOPELESS RUIN. 

Napoleon had then the means of effecting a retreat. His Old 
Guard had yet taken no part in the action. Under cover of it, 
he might have withdrawn his shattered forces and retired upon the 
French frontier. But this would only have given the English and 
Prussians the opportunity of completing their junction ; and he knew 
that other armies were fast coming up to aid them in a march upon 
Paris, if he should succeed in avoiding an encounter with them, and 
ret:eatingupon the capital. A victory at Waterloo was his only alterna- 
tive from utter ri:iu, and he determined to employ his Guard in one 
bold stroke more to make that victorv his own. 

Between seven and eight o'clock, the infantr}' of the Old Guard 
was formed into two columns, on the declivity near La Belle Alliance. 
Ney was placed at their head. Napoleon himself rode forward to a spot 
by which his veterans were to pass ; and as they approached he raised 
his arm, and pointed to the position of the allies, as if to tell them, that 
their ])ath lay there. They answered with loud cries of '' Vive 1' Em- 
peror ! " and descended the hill from their own side into that " valle}' of 



DUKE OF WELLINGTON. oS5 

the shadow of death," while their batteries thundered with redoubled 
vigor over their heads upon the British line. 

Meanwhile, the British guns were not idle ; but shot and shell 
plowed fast through the ranks of the stately array of veterans that still 
moved imposingly on. Several of the French superior officers were at its 
head. Ney's horse was shot under him, but he still led the wa}- on foot, 
sword in hand. The front of the massy column now was on the ridge 
of the hill. To their surprise, they saw no troops before them. All they 
could discern through the smoke was a small band of mounted officers. 
One of them was the duke himself The Freuch advanced to about fifty 
yards from where the British Guards were lying down, when the voice 
of one of the band of British officers was heard calling, as if to the ground 
before him, '' Up, guards, and at them ! " 

POURED VOLLEY OF SHOT ON ENEMY. 

It was the duke who gave the order ; and at the words, as if by 
magic, up started before them a line of British Guards four deep, and in 
the most compact and perfect order. They poured an instantaneous 
volley upon the head of the French column, by which no less than three 
hundred of those chosen veterans are said to have fallen. The French 
officers rushed forward, and, conspicuous in front of their men, attempted 
to deploy them into a more extended line, so as to enable them to reply 
with effect to the British fire. 

But IMaitland's brigade kept showering in volley after volley with 
deadly rapidity. The decimated column grew disordered in its vain 
efforts to e.Kpand itself into a more efficient formation. The right word 
was given a,t the right moment to the British for the bayonet charge, 
and the briga le sprang forward with a loud cheer against their dismaA-ed 
antagonists. In an instant, the compact mass of the French spread out 
into a rabble, and they fled back down the hill pursued by Maitland's 
men, who, however, returned to their posilion in time to take part in the 
repulse of the second column of the Imperial Guard. 

This column also advanced with great spirit and firmness under the 
25 



;}80 DUKK OF WI'XLINGTON. 

cannonade which was opened upon it, and, passing by the eastern wall of 
Hongouniont, diverged slightly to the right as it moved up the slope toward 
the British position, so as to approach the same spot where the first 
column had surmounted the height and been defeated. This enabled 
the British regiments of Adam's brigade to form a line parallel to the 
left flank of the French column, so that while the front of this column 
of French guards had to encounter the cannonade of the British batteries 
and the musketry of Maitland's guards, its left flank was assailed with a 
destructive fire by a four-deep body of British infantry, extending all 
along it, and acting together like clockwork. 

SKILL AND BRAVERY WERE IN VAIN. 

In such a position, all the bravery and skill of the French veterans 
were in vain. The second column, like its predecessor, broke and fled, 
taking at first a lateral direction along the front of the British line 
toward the river of La Have Sainte, and so becoming blended with the 
divisions of French infantry, which, under Donzelot, had been pressing 
the allies so severely in that qtiarter. The sight of the Old Guard broken 
and in flight checked the ardor which Donzelot's troops had hitherto dis- 
played. They, too, began to waver. Adam's victorious brigade was 
pressing after the flying guard, and now cleared away the assailants of 
the allied centre. 

But the battle was not yet won. Napoleon had still some battalions 
in reserve near La Belle Alliance. He was rapidly rallying the remains 
of the first column of his guards, and he had collected into one body tlie 
remnants of the various corps of cavalry, which had stififered so severely 
in the earlier part of the day. The duke instantly formed the bold 
resolution of now himself becoming the assailant, and leading his suc- 
cessful though enfeebled army forward, while the disheartening effect of 
the repulse of the Imperial Guard on the French army was still strong, 
and before Napoleon and Ney could rally the beaten veterans themselves 
for another and fiercer charge. 

As the close approach of the Prussians now completely protected 



DUKK OF \VI:LLINGT0N. ;W7 

the duke's left, he had drawn some reserves of horse from that quarter, 
and had a brigade of Hussars under Vivian fresh and ready at hand. 
Without a moment's hesitation, he launched these against the cavalry 
near La Belle Alliance. The charge was as successful as it was daring; 
and as there was now no hostile cavalry to check the British infantry' in 
a forward movement the duke gave the long-wished for command for a 
general advance of the army along the whole line upon the foe. 

It was now past eight o'clock, and for nine deadly hours had the 
British and German regiments stood unflinching under the fire of artil- 
lery, the charge of civalry, and every variety of assault that the compact 
columns or the scattered skirmishers of the enemy's infantr}' could 
inflict. As tliey joyously sprang forward against the discomfited masses 
of the French, the setting sun broke through the clouds which had 
obscured the sky during the greater part of the day, and glittered on the 
bayonets of the aUies, while they in turn poured down into the valle}- and 
towards the heights that were held b}^ the foe. 

Almost the whole of the French host was now in irretrievable con- 
fusion. The Prussian army was coming more and more rapidly forward 
on their right, and the Young Guard, which had held Planchenoit so 
bravely, was at last compelled to give way. Some regiments of the Old 
Guard in vain endeavored to form in squares. They were swept away 
to the rear; and then Napoleon himself fled from the last of his man}?^ 
fields, to become in a few weeks a captive and an exile. The battle was 
lost by France past all recovery. The victorious armies of England and 
Prussia, meeting on the scene of tlieir triumph, continued to press 
forward and overwhelm every attempt to stem the tide of ruin. 

The army under the Duke of Wellington lost heavily in killed and 
wounded on this terrible day of battle. The loss of the Prussian army was 
■ ven greater. At a fearful price was the deliverance of Europe purchased. 

Wellington, the '' Iron Duke," died in 1852, and with the most 
imposing obsequies was entombed in the crvpt of St. Paul's, London 
His funeral was a national demonstration, the entire nation bestowing 
every mark of honor and eulogy upon the illustrious dead. 




x^^i^ 



CHAPTER XXVI. 



GENERAL ANDREW JACKSON. 

HFRO OF NEW ORLEANS — STORY OF HIS (GAL- 
LANT ACHIEVEMENTS— RUGGED AND POSITIVE 
CHARACTER ^ — THE SEVENTH PRESIDENT OF 
THE IINITED STATES. 

The War of the Revolution had not swept far into the Carolinas 
before it reached the WaxhaAV Settlement and the home of Andrew- 
Jackson. He was " Little Andy " then, an active, dariny lad of thirteen, 
the most mischievous boy in the neighborhood, always "up to" some 
prank and always getting into trouble. He had first attended an "old 
field school," which was a log hut in one of the pine forests that spring 
up in the South on old fields which have been used for raising cotton 
until they will grow no more. 

Andy's father had died before he was born, and his mother was poor, 
but she succeeded in having him go away to school, where he was studying 
for college. But he had time to learn little more than reading, writing, 
and arithmetic before the war closed the school houses of the South and 
filled the minds of young and old with other thoughts than of stud}-. 
Andy's daring spirit was roused by the stirring reports that reached 
him. He was li\ely, fo'.id of jumping, foot racing, and wrestling — a 
regular little soldier even as a school boy. He was slender, and more 
active than strong, so very often he was thrown. 

One of his playfellows used to sa}-, "I could throw him three times 

out of four, but he never would sta}^ throwed. He was plucky even thcr., 

and never would give up." He was rather hard to get along with among 
388 



GENERAL ANDREW JAfKSON. ?,89 

bo3's of his own age, but there was nothing lie would not do to defend 
the younger boys, who accepted him as their leader. 

Wlien the sweep of war reached their district, Andrew and his two 
larger brothers were wild with eagerness to join in " for Congress " and 
against the British. So the three boys — Andy only thirteen years old — 
mounted their horses and went out with little parties that scoured the 
countr}', breaking up the small posts of the enemy and doing what deeds 
of service they could to help on their country's cause. 

WASTED ONE WHOLE YEAR. 

After the surrender of Cornwallis the Waxhaw people went back to 
their homes, from which they had been driven by fear and the enemy ; 
but Andrew unsettled for study, too young and not prepared for work, 
remained in the city. One year, to his own shame, he wasted in trying 
to have a good time, and two others were of little account to him, but 
suddenh? making up his mind that he would have to go to work at some- 
thing if he would succeed in life, he left his gay friends and went back 
to the country. He taught school for awhile, and in the winter of 1785 
began to stud}' law at Salisbury. There was at this time a fine oppor- 
tunity for 3'oung men to work their wa}' up in the world through the 
profession of law. The Tory barristers, who beforetime had had the 
largest share in this business, were now shut out, and the many changes 
in the c nintry called loudly for others in the profession to take their 
places, for old Whig lawyers had more than they could do. After two 
or three years of faithful study, Andrew was licensed to practice, and 
before long he was appointed Solicitor for the Western District of South 
Carolina, which is now Tennessee. 

He was gay and spirited, brave, but not rash, prudeut, but no coward 
— ^just the man for a frontier settlement harassed bv Indians. His red 
neighbors S(3on found out his nature, and while they feared him thev 
also admired him, and called him the "Pointed Knife" and the "Sharp 
Arrow." Everj^ time there was an outbreak, Jackson took the lead against 
them, always showing so much courage and judgment, both in meeting 



390 GENERAL ANDREW JACKSON. 

the Indians and in quieting them, that his name became quite famous 
throughout the vicinity, and he was madj major-general of the new 




ANDREW JACKSON. 
State of Tennessee, which was formed about eight j^ears after he moved 
out there. 

He ahso did a great deal in organizing this State, helping to plan 
the Constitution, representing it in Washington at. diflferent times, both 
in the House of Representatives and in the Senate, and after that he 
held the office of Judge of the Supreme Court. 



GENERAL ANDREW JACKSON. 391 

When the second war with Great Britain was declared, he easily- 
raised a force of tweuty-five hundred volunteers, and offered their ser- 
vices and his own to the Government, in June of 1S12. Although his 
troops were accepted, thej-- were not given anything much to do until the 
next fall, when they were sent out against the Creek Indians, whom 
they conipleteh^ routed, ending entirely this Indian outbreak, sometimes 
called the Creek War, and breaking forever the Indian power in North 
America. It was during this campaign that once, when the food gave 
out, Jackson set his men the example of eating hickorv-nuts to keep 
from starving, and gained by it the name of " Old Hickory." Because 
of the skill and energy shown in this hard and dangerous undertaking, 
Jackson was appointed a major-general of the regular ami}'. He was 
then forty-seven years old, hardy, active and energetic ; one of the most 
popular men in the country and had a strong following. 

ORDERED TO THE GULF OF MEXICO. 

He was not now kept back, as when he first entered the war. Ic 
the fall of 18 14, when an invasion of the British was expected in the 
South, he was ordered to the Gulf of Mexico to oppose them. In the 
first place, he seized Pensacola, which belonged to Spain, but was used 
by the British, and then he moved his army to New Orleans, for although 
that was a gateway for invasion, it was so poorly defended that the Eng- 
lish might almost have taken it without any effort. In about two weeks 
after he arrived in the "Crescent City" the invasion began, but Jackson 
not only succeeded in keeping the enemy out until the defenses were 
finished, and repulsed their attack on New Year's Day, but also met their 
veteran troops, which far outnumbered his own, in the great assault on 
the 8th of Januarj-, and defeated them with great loss to the British from 
the deadly fire of his artillery and the unerring aim of his Kentucky 
and Tennessee riflemen. 

To the British — says Jackson's biographer — there was a loss of two 
generals and seven hundred men killed, and fourteen hundred wounded, 
and five hundred prisoners — the result of tweuty-five minutes' work, in 



392 



GENP:RAL ANDREW JACKSON. 



which Jackson's loss was eight killed and thirteen wounded. This deed 
gave "Old Hickory" an everlasting popularity among his countrymen. 




OSCEOLA, CllIliF OF THE SEMINOLES. 
It was one of the most brilliant and decisive victories ever gained in 
America, and raised Jackson's rank to that of about the greatest general 



GKNKRAL ANDREW JACKSON. 393 

in tlie country. It was the last conflict of the war. The treaty had 
already been signed at Ghent, and the news of peace would have reached 
America before the engagement if there had then been the means of 
quick communication across the Atlantic that there now are. 

After Spain had ceded Florida to the United States, General Jackson 
was made Governor of the Territor}-. Later he was United States Sena- 
tor from Tennessee for a second time, and became a candidate for Presi- 
dent in the campaign in which John Qtiincy Adams was elected. But in 
the next canvass he ran again and succeeded ; four years later he was 
re-elected, more popular than ever ; and at the end of his second term he 
had so much influence that, because of his support. Van Buren became 
the next President, although Calhoun, the other candidate, was far more 
popular in himself, especially at the South. 

FIRM AND RESOLUTE AS PRESIDENT. 

He showed great firmness and judgment as President, and held to 
what he thought right against any amotmt of opposition. After a long 
struggle he succeeded in destroying the Bank of the United States, and 
took the first steps toward having for our country an independent 
Treasury and a specie currency. 

The chief military exploit of "Old Hickory" was his famous vic- 
tory at New Orleans, a detailed account of which is as follows : In the 
month of December, 1S14, fifteen thousand British troops, under Sir Ed- 
ward Packenham, were landed for the attack of New Orleans. The 
defence of this place was intrusted to General Andrew Jackson, whose 
force was about six thousand men, chiefly raw militia. 

At daylight on the morning of the 8th of January, the main body 
of the British, under their commander-in-chief. General Packenham, were 
seen advancing from their encampment to storm the American lines. 
On the preceding evening thej- had erected a battery within eight hun- 
dred yards, which now opened a brisk fire to protect their advance. The 
British came on in two columns, the left along the levee on the bank of 
the river, directed against the American right, while the right advanced 



GKNERAL ANDREW JACKSON. 30o 

to the swamp, with a view to turn General Jackson's left. The country 
being a perfect level, and the view unobstructed, their march was observed 
from its commencement. They were suflfered to approach, in silence and 
unmolested, until within tliree hundred yards of the lines. 

This period of suspense and expectation was employed by General 
Jackson and his officers in stationing every man at his post, and arrang- 
ing everything for the decisive event. When the British columns had 
advanced within three hundred yards of the lines, the whole artillery at 
once opened upon them a most deadly fire. Forty pieces Ox cannon, 
deeply charged with grape, canister, and musket-balls, mowed them down 
by hundreds ; at the same time the batteries on the west bank opened 
their fire, while the riflemen, in perfect security behind their works, as 
the British advanced took deliberate aim, and nearly every shot took 
effect and made havoc among the enemy. 

JACKSON'S MASTERLY DEFENSES. 

Through this destructive fire the British left column, under the 
immediate orders of the commander-in-chief, rushed on with their 
fascines and scaling ladders, to the advance bastion on the American 
right, and succeeded in mounting the parapet ; here, after a close con. 
flict with the bayonet, they succeeded in obtaining possession of the 
bastion, when the battery planted in the rear for its protection opened 
its fire, and drove the British from the ground. On the American left 
the British attempted to pass the swamp and gain the rear, but the 
works had been extended as far into the swamp as the ground would per- 
mit. Some who attempted it sank in the mire and disappeared ; those 
behind, seeing the fate of their companions, seasonably retreated and 
gained the hard ground. The assault continued an hour and a quarter; 
during the whole time the British were exposed to the deliberate and 
destructive fire of the American artillery and musketry, which lay in 
perfect security behind their breastworks of cotton bales, which no balls 
could penetrate. 

At eight o'clock, the British columns drew off in confusion, and 



396 GENP:RAL ANDREW JACKSON. 

retreated behind their works. Flushed with success, the militia w^ere 
eager to pursue the British troops to their intreuchments, and drive them 
immediatel}- from the islaud. A less prudent and accomplished general 
might have been induced to Meld to the indiscreet aidor of his troops , 




STEAMBOAT LOADING WITH COTTON, 
but General Jackson understood too well the natijre of both his own and 
his enemy's force, to hazard such an attempt. Defeat must inevitably 
liave attended an assault made b}^ raw militia upon an intrenched camp 
of British regulars. The defence of New Orleans was the object; nothing 
was to be hazarded which would jeopardize the citv. The British were 
suffered to retire behind their works without molestation. The result 
was such as might be expected from the different positions of the two 
armies. General Packenham, near the crest of the glacis, received a ball 



GENERAL ANDREW JACKSON. 



397 



in his knee. Still continuiug to lead on his men, another shot pierced 

his body and he was carried off the field. 

Nearly at this time, Major-General Gibbs, the second in command, 

within a few yards of the lines, received a mortal wonnd and was removed. 

The third in 
command, Major 
General Keane, 
at the head of 
his troops near 
the glacis, was 
severely wound- 
ed. Before eight 
o'clock, the three 
generals were 
carried off the 
field, two in the 
agonies of death 
and the third 
entirely dis- 
abled ; leaving 
upwards of two 
thousand of 
their men, dead, 
dying, and 




THE PLAIN OF CHALMK ITIC — SCKNl-: 



BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS. 



wounded or prisoners, on the field of batttle. 

As already stated, Jackson was afterward elected President, and in 
this, the highest office in the gift of his countrymen, he was the same 
bold, resolute and sagacious leader he had proved himself to be in battle. 

Andrew Jackson was born March 15, 1767, in what was called the 
Waxhaw settlement, either in North or South Carolina, it is not known 
which, although he believed himself a native of the Southern State. He 
died at his country-seat, the Hermitage, near Nashville, Tennessee, 
June S, 1845. 







CHAPTER XXVII. 

GENERAL T. J. JACKSON. 

( "STONEWALL JACKSON." ) 

URAVP: and conscientious commander — ALWAYS AT 
THE HEAD OF HIS COLUMN — WOUNDED BY AN UNFORTU- 
NATE MISTAKE — HIS CHRISTIAN COURAGE AND HEROISM 
— HOW HE RECEIVED HIS NAME OF " STONEWALL." 

We deem it appropriate to apprise the reader of the fact that this 
volume contains trne accounts of real heroes and heroines, men and 
women who, by reason of their moral and physical courage, are entitled 
to be called such. Heroism may be exhibited in any cause demanding 
personal bravery, hardships and sacrifices. We pass no judgment 
whatever upon the merits of the great Civil War which, for a time, rent 
our country in twain, only desiring to recount the valiant deeds of those 
who distinguished themselves in this gigantic struggle, and whose 
names will stand forever more on the pages of American histor\-. 

One of these was General T. J. Jackson, a man of lofty character 
and unimpeachable integrity. 

The figure of " Stonewall " Jackson stands forth with and entirely 
unique individualit}' among Southern leaders. He was a man in many 
respects siii goirris, with a leaven of something resembling Cromwell's 
"Roundheads" in his composition. There was the same deep devotion, 
the same fiery onslaught, the same unquailing courage ; but the puritan- 
ical cant in his case had become a sweet, unassuming sincerit}- and simple 
faith. He came of English parentage, his great-grandfather having 
emigrated from London to Maryland in 1748. Here he married Rlizabeth 
Cummins, and .shortly after removed to West Virginia, where he founded 

a large family. 
398 



GENERAL T. J. JACKSON. 39., 

His father was an eugiueer and died before his son's recollection. 
His mother died when he was ten years old, and her saintly death is said 
to have made a profound impression on the lad. A bachelor uncle 
Cummins Jackson, assumed the responsibility of bringing him up. He 
was a very delicate child, but the rough life of a Virginia farm streno-th- 
eued his constitution. He became a constable for the county while a 
mere stripling, and at the age of eighteen he was appointed cadet at 

West Point. The class register 
places his birthplace at Clarks- 
burg, West Virginia ; the date 
January 21, 1824. His academ- 
ical preparation had been im- 
perfect, and he did not attain a 
high grade. 

On his graduatior ir ^846 
he was ordered to Mexico, and 
became a lieutenant in Magrud- 
er's battery, taking part in Gen- 
eral Scott's campaign from Vera 
Cruz to the City of Mexico. He 
was twice breveted for good 
condvict at Churubusco and 
JACKSON. Chapultepec. When the United 

States army was withdrawn from Mexico, he was for a time on duty at 
Fort Hamilton in New York harbor. 

In 185 1, on his election as professor of philosophy and artillery 
tactics at Virginia Military Institute, he resigned from the army. His 
appearance and manner at this time liave been sympathetically described 
by the ladv who subsequently became his sister-in-law: "He was of a 
tall, very erect figure, with a military precision about him which made 
us girls all account him stiff; but he was one of the most polite and 
courteous of men. He had a handsome, animated face, flashing blue 
eyes, and the most mobile of mouths. He was voted eccentric in oui 




400 GENERAL T. J. JACKSON. 

little professional society, because he did not walk in the same conven- 
tional grooves as other men. It was only when we came to know him 
with the iutimacv of hourly converse that we found that much tliat 
passed under the name of eccentricity was the result of the deepest 
underlying principle, aud compelled a respect which we dared not 
withhold. He was an extremely modest man, and not until he asked 
the hand of my sister Elinor in marriage, and the records of his army- 
life were placed before my father (the Rev. Dr. Junkin, President of 
Washington College), did we know that he had so distinguished himself 
in the Mexican War." 

Then, as ever after, Jackson weighed his lightest utterances in "the 
balances of the sanctuary," and so ruled his life, we are told, that "he 
never even inadvertently fell into the use of the common expressions 
involving the wish that any event or circumstance were diflferent from 
what it was. To do so would, in his opinion, have been to arraign 
Providence," so conscientious was the man. 

CAREFUL IN LITTLE THINGS. 

" Don't you wish it would stop raining ?" was the careless remark 
put to him by his wife after a week of wet weather. "Yes," was his 
smiling reply, "if the Maker of the weather thinks it best." "He never 
posted a letter," his sister-in-law tells us, "without calculating whether 
it would have to travel on Sunday to reach its destination, and if so he 
would not mail it till Monday "morning." He took much interest in the 
improvement of slaves, and conducted a Sunday-school for their benefit 
which continued in operation a generation after his death. 

A few days after the secession of Virginia, but before any active hos- 
tilities had commenced, Jackson was ordered to Harper's Ferry to drill 
the military bands that were gathering there from all quarters. When 
Virginia joined the Confederacy a few weeks later, he was relieved b}- 
General Joseph E. Johnston, and then became commander of a brigade 
in Johnston's army, which rank he held at the battle of Bull Run. In 
that action the left of the Confederate line had been turned aud the troops 



GKNERAL T. J. JACKSON. 401 

holding it driven back some distance. Disaster was imminent, and 
Johnston was hurrying up troops to support liis left. Jackson's brii^ade 
was the first to get into position, and checked the progress of tlie Federal 
forces. The broken troops rallied upon his line; other reinforcements 
reached the threatened point; the Confederates assumed the aggressive, 
and wrenched a victory from the very jaws of def^^at. In the crisis 
of the struggle General Bernard E. Bee, in rallying his men, said: 
"See, there is Jackson standing like a stone wall; rally on the Virgin- 
ians!" Bee fell almost immediately after, but his exclamation con- 
ferred upon the Confederate brigadier-general a baptism that became 
immortal and made him " Stonewall " Jackson. 

SILENT AS A SPHINX, BRAVE AS A LION. 

Earlv in March, 1862, he was at Winchester with 5000 men, while 
General N. P. Banks was advancing against him from the Potomac. 
Jackson's instructions were to detain as large a hostile force as possible 
in the valley without risking the destruction of his own troops. The 
subtlety cf his strategy, the rapidity of his marches and the originality 
of his manoeuvers during this period have found many skilled chroniclers 
and admiring critics. Silent as a sphinx, brave as a lion, his un- 
expected disappearances and mysterious descents upon his enemy at the 
weakest points inspired sometk.ing akin to terror in the breast cf the 
Federal soldier. On May 25, 1862, he defeated Banks at Winchester, 
driving him beyond the Potomac, and effecting large captures of pris- 
oners and stores. On June 8, at Cross Keys, he delivered battle to 
Fremont, and after a long and bloody conflict night found him master of 
the field. 

Leaving Ewell's brigade on the ground, he that night marched the 
rest of his tired but victorious army to Port Republic, reaching the bridge 
at dark- General Imbodeu arrived soon after, and found "Stonewall" 
Jackson in a humble room, "lying on his face across the bed, fully 
dressed, with sword, sash and boots all on. The low-burnt tallow candle 
on the table shed a dim light, yet enough by which to see and recognize 

26 



402 



(il'-.NMRAL T. J. JACKSON. 




hi 



13 e r son. 



'General,' I .said, 
'3'on made a 
glorion.s wind- 
ing np of your 
four weeks' work 
yesterday-. ' — 
'Yes,' he replied, 
'God blessed our 
army again 3'es- 
terday, and I 
hope, with His 
protection and 
blessing, we 
shall do still 
better to-da}'.' " 
Sure enough 
that day he 
routed McDow- 
ell's column, and 
drove it from 
the battle-field, 
before Shields or 
Fremont could 
get there to ren- 
der assistance. 
"The 'Stone- 
wall' brigade 
never retreats ; 
follow me !" he 
MAP OF NORTHERN VIRGINIA. cried during the 

enoagement, as he placed himself at their head. 

The same authority has given me a pen picture of Jackson on the 



GENERAL T. J. JACKSON. 403 

battlefield. "The fight was ju.st hot enough to make him feel well. His 
eyes fairly blazed. He had a way of throwing up his left hand with the 
open palm toward the person he was addressing." Once he was asked 
how it was that he could keep so cool, and appear so utterably insensible to 
danger, in such a storm of shell and bullets. "He instantly became 
grave and reverential in his manner," writes Imboden, "and answered in 
a low tone of great earnestness. 'Captain, my religious belief teaches me 
to feel as safe in battles as in bed. God has fixed the time for my death. 
I do not concern mj^self about that, but to be always ready, no matter 
when it overtakes me.' " 

OFF FOR RICHMOND TO UNITE WITH LEE. 

After the action at Port Republic the Federal forces retreated to the 
lower Shenandoah, while "Stonewall" Jackson hastened by forced marches 
to Richmond, to unite with General Lee in attacking McClellan. On 
June 27, 1862, at Gaines's Alills, he turned the scale where Fitz-John 
Porter was overthrown. He also took part in the subsequent operations 
during McClellan' s retreat. During this period there was some social 
hobnobbing and interchange of civilities at times between the privates of 
the opposing armies. One lean "Johnny" was loud in his praise of 
"Stonewall " Jackson, saying: "He's a general, he is. If you uns had some 
good general like him, I reckon you uns could lick we uns. 'Old Jack' 
marches we uns most to death." 

"Does vour general abuse you — swear at you to make you march ?" 
inquired one of his listeners. "Swear !" replied the Confederate, "no, 
Ewell does the swearing; 'Stonewall' does the praying. When 'Stoue- 
wair wants us to march he looks at us soberly, just as if he was sorry for 
we uns, but couldn't help it, and says, 'Men, we've got to make a long 
march.' " 

About the middle of July, 1862, Lee detached Jackson to Gordonsville 
for the purpose of looking after his old adversaries of the Shenandoah 
Valley, who were again gathering under General John Pope. On thegth 
of August he encountered the Federal army under Pope and McDowell 



404 GENERAL T. J. JACKSON. 

at Cedar Run, and drove it back in disorder. On the 25tli of the same 
month he crossed the Rappahannock at Hinson's Mill, four miles above 
Waterloo Bridge. When sunset came next day he was many miles in 
the rear of Pope's arm}', moving in the direction of Washington. (3u 
the afternoon of the 26th Pope's army broke away from its strong 
position to meet Jackson's daring and unexpected move. 

JACKSON IN THE MARYLAND CAMPAIGN. 

In the Maryland campaign, two weeks later, General Jackson had 
charge of the operations which resulted in the investment and capture of 
the post at Harper's Ferry, with 13,000 men and 70 cannon, while Lee 
held back McClellan at South Mountain and along the Antietam. 
"Stonewall" Jackson lost little time in contemplating his victory; when 
night came he started for Shepherdstown, and on September 17 the fierce 
battle of Sharpsburg was fought. In this bloody contest Jackson com- 
manded the left wing of the Confederate arm}^, against which in succcession 
McClellan hurled Hooker's, Mansfield's and Sumner's corps. With deci- 
mated lines Jackson maintained himself throughout the day near tlie old 
Dunkerchurch, while one of his divisions — A. P. Hill's, which had been left 
at Harper's Ferry — reached the field late in the day, and defeated Burn - 
side's corps, which was making rapid and deadly progress against the Con- 
federate right flank. 

In the spring of 1863, when Hooker's movement upon Chancellorsville 
was fully developed. Lee ordered Jackson's corps to move up to meet him. 
On the morning of May i, Jackson met Hooker emerging from the Wilder- 
ness that surrounds Chancellorsville, and at once assumed the defensive 
with such fierce impetuosity that the Federal commander withdrew into the 
fastnesses of the Wilderness, and established lines of defence. At sunrise. 
May 2, 1863, Jackson was in the saddle and on the march. All the livelong 
day he pursued his tedious and dreary way through the Wilderness. Be- 
tween 8 and 9 p. m. Jackson, with a small party, rode forward beyond his 
own lines to reconnoitre. He passed the swampy depression and began 
the ascent of the hill towards Chancellorsville, when he came upon a line 



GENERAL T. J. JACKSON. 405 

of Federal infantry lying on their arms. Fired at by one or two muskets, 
he turned liis horse and came back toward his own line. 

As he rode back to the Confederate troops, just placed in position, 
the left company, unaware of his presence in front of them, began firing, 
and two of bis party fell from their saddles, dead. vSpurring his horse 
across the road to his right, he was met by a second volley from the right 
company of Pender's North Carolina brigade. Under this wild volley 
the general received three balls almost synchronously ; one penetrated 
the palm of his right hand, and was extracted that night ; a second 
passed circuitously round the wrist of his left arm, and escaped through 
the hand ; a third traversed the left arm half way from shoulder to 
elbow, and splintered the large bone of the upper arm. His horse darted 
aside from the line of fire into the thick brush, and the general's fore- 
head was badly scratched. As he lost his hold on the bridle-rein, he 
reeled from the saddle, and was cai;ght in the arms of Captain Milbourne, 
of the Signal Corps. 

" Oh, general ! " cried Pender, who was soon on the scene, " I hope 
you are not seriously wounded. I will have to retire my troops to 
re-form them, they are so much broken by this fire." Jackson, rallying 
his strength, with firm voice said : "You must hold your ground. Gen- 
eral Pender; you must hold your ground, sir!" This was the hero's 
last command on the field. General Lee received the mournful tidings 
late at night with profound grief. This was his manly note of svmpathy : 

" General : I have just received information that you were wounded. 
I cannot express my regret at the occurrence. Could I have directed 
events, I should have chosen, for the good of the country, to have been 
disabled in your stead. I congratulate you upon the victory which is 
due to your skill and energy." 

Pneiimpnia set in, with some symptoms of pleurisy, and on the 
quiet Sabbath afternoon of May lo, 1863, he died. A few minutes before 
his dissolution, he raised himself in bed and said: "No, no, no; let us 
pass over the river, and rest under the shade of the trees." Peace to his 
ashes ! His remains rest under the trees. 



faf%#>«i^^%..i/t:^g 




CHAPTER XXVIII. 

GENERAL GEORGE G. MEADE. 

HERO OF GETTYSBURC; — LED AN ADVANCE IN 
THE MEXICAN WAR — HIS FAMILY HISTORY 
AND MILITARY TRAINING — PROMOTED FOR 
GALLANT SERVICES — COOL AND SKILLFUL 
COMMANDER. 

The name of IMeade has been intimately as.sociated with variou.s 
public and national movements during the past hundred 3'ears. George 
Meade, the grandfather of General Meade, was a signer of the non- 
importation resolutions of 1765, and was notably patriotic during the 
Revolution, sub.scribing large sums of nione}' to aid the government in 
defraying the war expenses, and in other ways manifesting his sturdy 
allegiance to the cause of the United States. He was as.sociated also 
witb- many prominent public actions in the city of Philadelphia, of which 
he was a resident. 

His son, Richard Worsam, was a merchant and ship-owner, trading 
between America and Spain. During the Peninsular War he exported 
thousands of barrels of flour, placing Spain in a state of indebtedness to 
him from which, in her extremel}' low financial state, she was unable to 
free herself. In his endeavors to collect the amount due him he was 
summarily disposed of for a time b}' imprisonment in the prison of Santa 
Catalina at Cadiz. There he remained for two years, when he was 
released through the action of the United States Minister. He was the 
worthy sire of one of our most conservative and efiicient generals. 

In 1S19, the treaty of Florida was made between America and Spain, 
and, according to the terms of that treaty, our government was to receive 
Florida, and in return to assume the responsibility of discharging all debts 

400 



GENERAL GKORGK (i. MK.ADI-; 



407 



on the part of Spain to A'uerican citizens. Mr. Mead- therefore returned 
totlii.s country armed with a certiticate for $491,153.62— the amount due 
him— signed by the king of vSpain. Then came a long, fruitles.s course 
of solicitation. Bills were passed through tlie Senate, and the ablest 
lawyers— including Webster, Clay and Choate— were engaged, but all to 
no end ; and to this day, in spite of the correctness of the documentary 
proofs, the famous Meade claim has profited nothing to the family. 

This was General Mead°' 
father ; and it was on Decem' 
31, 1S15, while he was living 
Cadiz, Spain, that General Geo: 
Gordon Meade was born. 1 
family returned to America wt 
George was abont three vear.'= 
age, and it was at Philadelph 
and afterwards at Salmon 
Chase's school in Washingti 
and at Mt. Hope Institution, n( 
Baltimore, that he received his fi 
education. 

He then entered the Unil 
States Military Academy, grac 
ating in 1835, ^"^^ serving first fc 
with the third artillery in Florida, CICORCE G. ME 

in the war against the Seminoles. Neither the climate nor his sur- 
rounding.s, however, were congenial to him there, and before a year had 
passed he was so reduced in health that the necessity for a change 
became evident. He was therefore sent with a party to Arkansas, and 
from there was ordered to ordnance duty at Watertown Arsenal, Massa- 
chusetts. From this duty he resigned October 26, 1836, and entered into 
civil eagineering work on the railroad at Pensacola, Florida. 

During the years 183S and 1839 ^^ ^""'^^ engaged by the War Depa^i.- 
ment on_the government survey of the Sabine River and the Delta of the 




408 GENERAL GEORC.E G. MEADE. 

Mississippi ; and iu the year foUowiii;^ he was employed on survey work, 
first on the boundary line between the United States and Texas, and after- 
wards in the north on the boundary between the United States and 
British America. 

Up until the opening of the Mexican War General Meade's employ- 
ment was almost continuously in government survey at one place and 
another. In December, 1840, he was married to Margaretta, daughter 
if John Sergeant. He remained on the northeastern boundary, connected 
with the corps of topographical engineers, until the end of the year 1843, 
and during the following two years was engaged in the survey of Dela- 
ware Bay. His rank iu the above corps was that of second lieutenant. 

LED THE ADVANCE ON INDEPENDENCE HILL 

During the Me.Kican War he was connected with the staff of General 
Zachary Taylor, and shared in the battles of Palo Alto and Resaca de la 
Palma. His first service of note, however, was in the battle of Monterey, 
iu which he was serving uuder General Worth. In this engagement he 
led the advance on Independence Hill, and took part later in the march 
to Tampico. In appreciation of his brave conduct at this time he was 
breveted first lieutenant. He took part in the siege of Vera Cruz, and 
in this battle served as a member of the staff of General Robert Patterson. 
This ended for a time his active field service ; for, from the 3'ear of his 
return from Mexico (1847) until the opening of the Civil War, he was 
again engaged in survey work. 

During 1S47-49 he was employed in the construction of light-houses 
on the Delaware Bay, and later in surve3'ing the Florida reefs. On. 
returning to Delaware in 1850 he was made first lieutenant of the topo- 
graphical engineer corps. In 1851 he was sent again to the Florida 
reefs, where he was engaged for five years in light-house construction, 
and iu 1856 was made captain of the corps conducting the geodetic 
survey of the Northern lakes. 

At the beginning of the Civil War General Meade was placed in 
command of the second brigade Pennsylvania reserves iu the Army of the 



GENERAL GEORGE G. MEADE. 



409 



Potomac. He was made brigadier-geueral of volunteers, and in June, 
1862, was promoted in the topographical engineer corps to the rank of 
major. His future services were, however, devoted to his brigade, and 
during 1862 he took part in the battles of Mechanicsville, Gaines's 
Mills, and Glendale. In the last-named battle he was badly wounded, 




-•''Sy^^^ ,.-„jf}.j,-_ 



U)'^'^ 




BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG, 
and compelled to leave the army for a time. He had been removed to 
Philadelphia ; but his wound recovering more rapidly than was at first 
expected, it was not long before he was able to rejoin his army and enter 
again into active service. 

The enemy was at this time advancing toward Washington, and it 
was therefore at a most critical juncture of the war that General Meade 



10 



(II'.NKRAI. Gl-.ORC.I-: <",. MKAUE. 



ivsunifd coiuniand of his brit^ade, opposing the advance of the Confed- 
erate army and sharing in the second battle of Bnll Run. When the 
enemy later on invaded Maryland, General J. F. Reynolds being absent, 
General Meade was in command of the whole division of Pennsylvania 
reserves. He rendered distingnished services in the battles of Sonth 
Monntaiu and Antietam ; and in the latter engagement, in which General 
Hooker was wounded, General Meade was assigned on the battlefield to 




POSITIONS nrKlNClTHIi FIRST DAY'S FIGHT AT GF.TTVSIUKC ■.. 
the command of Hooker's corps, and was complimcnlLd for liis skill and 
bravery. 

To the reputation alread)' secured in these battles General Meade 
added materially, in November, 1S62, iu the battle of Fredericksburg. 
The enemy was commanded by ' "Stonewall" Jackson, and duringthc battle 
the only marked advantage that was gained by the National forces was 
won by General Meade's division, which drove everything before it, and 
penetrated the enemy's lines as fiir as their reserves. Two horses were 



GENERAL GEORGE G. MEADE HI 

shot under General Meade during the action. Had the whole National force 
accomplished as much in proportion, the results of that battle would have 
been different ; but General Meade, after having made a most gallant 
attack, and having won a great advantage, Avas compelled to fall back 
througli lack of sufficient support. 

Shortly after this engagement General Meade was made major- 




POSITIONS DURING SECOND AND THIRD DAYS AT GETTYSBURG. 
general and commanded the fifth corps, taking part in the battle of Chati- 
cellorsville, where, after having successfully overcome considerable 
resistance, he was unfortunately recalled and ordered to his former posi- 
tion. The lack of good management in this battle was owing largely to 
the fact that General Hooker was stunned by a cannon ball, thus leaving 
the army at a most important point witliout sufficient command. It 
became evident soon after that the Confederate army intended marching 



412 GEMERAL GEORGE G. MEADE. 

further north. While affairs were so disposed General Hooker requested 
further reinforcement, and, on this being refused by the President, 
suddenly sent in his resignation — General Meade being placed in 
command of the army. 

This was the most trying time of Meade's experience. He was 
unfamiliar with the army at large and its resources, and a most important 
action was pending. Not a moment was to be lost, and yet he was not 
in possession of all the knowledge essential to a commander. It was in 
June, 1863, and while Lee's army was moving north, that the National 
forces were lying near Frederick, Md. General Meade's purpose was to 
follow the Confederate army in a parallel line, to prevent a descent on 
Baltimore, and, on finding a fitting place, to engage Lee in battle. In 
this manner the two armies approached Gettysburg, and on July i the 
first action of that eventful battle took place General Reynolds led the 
advance National forces on that day, but was driven back by the Confed- 
erate army, Reynolds himself being killed. 

General Meade sent General W. S. Hancock ahead with additional 
forces. The result of that terrible third day of the battle, the 3rd of 
July, and the importance of that result to the interests of the Northern 
cause, is well known and appreciated. As long as the Civil War is 
remembered, so long will the gallant and hard-earned victor}^ at Gettys- 
burg be recorded, with the warmest praisesof the able military leadership 
of General Meade, and the efficient and skilful assistance of General 
Hancock. In view of his valuable and illustrious services, General 
Meade was promoted to the rank of brigadier-general in the regular army, 
his commission dating from July 3, 1863. 

During the years 1866-1872 he commanded successively the Depart- 
ment of the East, the Military District of Georgia and Alabama, the 
Department of the vSouth (comprising Georgia, Alabama, South Carolina, 
Florida, and the Militarj^ Division of the Atlantic). 

He died in Philadelphia on November 6, 1872, of an attack of pneu- 
monia, which was aggravated by tbe results of the wound he had received 
at the battle of Gleudale. 



,fOr--i 



V" 




'"**'! J^ -f'^ s . 









CHAPTER XXIX. 

GENERAL GEORGE E. PICKETT. 

SPLENDID TYPE OF HERO— A MAN FOR 
GREAT DEEDS— HIS DESPERATE CHARGE 
AT GETTYSBURG — DASHES INTO THE 
THICKEST OF THE APPALLING CARNAGE 
— ONE OF THE WORLD'S GREATEST CAV- 
ALRY COMMANDERS. 

The Virginian whose name stands at the head of this article was an 
ideal soldier — the very embodiment and type of a hero born for immortal 
deeds ; and on the memorable snmmer day to be described further on he 
made a mark in history to survive as long as the language of glorious 
emprise is read among men. Pickett was born at Richmond, Ga., on 
January 25, 1825. It was merely the anniversary birthday of Burns who 
in his "Scots wa hae wi' Wallace bled" gave the world its noblest battle- 
song. He also gave mankind that striking image, to be so thrillingly 
realized by Pickett at Gettysburg, of his Scottish forefathers in the battle- 
field struggling forward "red wet-shod." 

The young Virginian was appointed to the Military Academy from 
Illinois, and graduated in 1846. He served in Mexico; was made second 
lieutenant in the second infantry March 3, 1847 ; was at the siege of Vera 
Cruz ; and, in brief, was engaged in all the battles that preceded the 
assault and capture of the City of Mexico. Duty next took him to Texas, 
and subsequently he was on garrison duty in the northwestern territory 
at Puget Sound. At that time the dispute between our government and 
Great Britain respecting the northwestern boundary was in petulant 
progress, and Captain Pickett was ordered with sixty men to occupy 
San Juan Island. 



414 



GKNI'.RAL GKORGE ]•:. riCKKIT. 



This movement excited the rage of the British governor, who sent 
three vessels of war to summarily eject Pickett from his position. To 
use an expressive slang phrase of our da}'^, the Virginian " didn't scare 
worth a cent." With quiet emphasis he forbade the landing of the troops 
from the vessels. '"I shall order ni}- men to fire," he said, " if a man of 
them lands on this island." No doub: there would have been a collision 
but for the opportune arrival upon the scene of the British admiral, b}' 
whose order the issue of force was postponed. 

On June 25, 1S61, he resigned from the arm}-, feeling that he must, 

as a man of honor and a 
Virginian, share the destiny 
of his vState. In February, 
!;i4 1S62, Pickett w'as made 
brigadier-general in Long- 
street's division under 
Joseph E. Johnston, then 
called the Army of the Poto- 
mac, but w^hich subse- 
quently became the Army 
of Northern Virginia. He 
took a prominent part in 
the work of carnage at 

View OF 11..- ^ .,,, j ... ,v near ,Mech.\nicsville. Seven Pines. On Tiine 1, 

1862, the National forces under McClellan, having thrown across the 
Chickahominy two additional divisions under the command of General 
Sumner, attacked Pickett's brigade, which was supported by that of 
General Pryor. 

The attack was vigorousl}^ repelled bv these two brigades, "the brunt 
of the fight falling upon General Pickett." After this his brigade, in the 
retreat before AlcClellan up the Peninsula, and in the seven da3^s' battle 
around Richmond, won such a reputation that it was known as the 
"Game-Cock Brigade." At the battle of Gaines's Mills, fought June 27, 
1862, he took a distinguished part and was severely wounded 




416 GENERAL GEORGE E. PICKETT. 

The principal part of the Federal army was on the north side of the 
Chickahominy. Hill's division of the Confederate forces met this large 
force with impetuous courage. Some of his brigades were broken. The 
National forces were steadily gaining ground. Jackson had not arrived. 
It was a critical moment. Three brigades under Wilcox were ordered 
forward against the Federal left flank, to make a diversion in favor of the 
attacking columns. Pickett's brigade, making an independent diversion 
on the left of these brigades, developed the strong position and force of 
the Federals in Longstreet's front. 

ORDERS FOR A GENERAL ADVANCE. 

The latter at once resolved to change the feint into an attack, and 
orders for a general advance were issued. At this moment "Stonewall" 
Jackson arrived, and the air was rent with shouts. Pickett's brigade, 
supported by part of Anderson's brigade, swept on to the charge with 
fierce grandeur. Along the whole Confederate line the troops pressed 
steadily forward, unchecked by the terrible fire from the National forces. 
In this furious onslaught Pickett fell, severely wounded in the shoulder, 
and was iinable to rejoin his command until after the first Maryland 
campaign. He was then made major-general, with a division composed 
entirely of Virginians. At the battle of Fredericksburg his division 
held the centre of Lee's line and took a conspicuous part in the rout of 
Burnside that followed. We come now to the battle of Gettysburg. 

There is little doubt that General Lee accepted the results of the 
first and second days' battles as success for his army, for he had gained 
possession of the ground from which he had driven the Union forces, and 
he had captured a large number of prisoners, and had added a large 
number of field guns to his artillery corps. On the morning of the third 
day he had reconnoitred the Federal position from the college cupola, and 
had come to the conclusion that the left centre was the weakest part in 
the Union lines. "With that discovery," says a competent military 
authority, "he determined upon a move, the grandest ever conceived by 
a commanding general, and, as the result proved, the m jst fatal. One 



GENERAL GEORGE K. PICKETT. 417 

formidable obstacle stood in the way of his hopes — the Federal artillery. 
By opening an attack along the entire line with his own gnus, he hoped 
to be able to destroy many of the enemy's, besides exhausting his stock 
of ammunition; so that when the crucial test of the day came — the 
breaking of the Federal line at the left centre — their heav}' guns would 
be practically useless for defensive purposes. 

READY TO PERFORM HIS DUTY. 

"What was to be the next move, was a question in the minds of both 
armies during the calm which succeeded the cannonading. In the 
morning Lee had told Longstreet to order Pickett's division, which 
belonged to his corps, to make an attack in force on the Federal left 
centre. Pickett had been apprised of the work cut out for him, and, like 
the brave officer he was, held himself in readiness to perform his duty." 
His division, consisting of three brigades under the commands of 
Armistead, Garnett and Kemper, lay in a clump of woods, almost directly 
opposite the objective point which they were to attack. The three 
brigades were made up of fifteen Virginia regiments, all tried and 
true men, who had won many laurels on the battlefields of their native 
State. 

At noon there was a deep calm in the warm air. General Lee 
determined to mass his artillery in front of Hill's corps, and under cover 
of this tremendous fire to direct the assault on the National centre. To 
this end more than a hundred pieces of artillery were placed in position. 
On the opposite side of the valley might be perceived, by the gradual 
concentration of the Federals in the woods, the preparations for the 
mighty contest that was at last to break the ominous silence. At 
12.30 p. m. the shrill sound of a Whitworth gun pierced the air. 
Instantly more than 200 cannon belched forth their thunder at one time. 

"It was absolutely apalling," an ofi&cer writes. "The air was 

hideous with most discordant noise. The very earth shook beneath our 

feet, aud the hills and rocks seemed to reel like drunken men. For an 

hour and a half this most terrific fire was continued, during which time 

27 



418 GENERAL GEORGE E. PICKETT. 

the shrieking of shell, the crash of falling timber, the fragments of rocks 
flying through the air, shattered from the cliffs by solid shot, the heavy 
mutterings from the valley between the opposing armies, the splash of 
bursting shrapnel, and the fierce neighing of wounded artillery horses, 
combined to form a picture terribly grand and sublime." 

Part of this time Pickett's division had been lying listening in the 
woods, but during the last half hour they had been moved into position. 
The time had now come. The hour was ripe for the fruition of the 
hopes of the Confederac}'. Pickett mounted his white charger, and, 
riding up to Longstreet, asked for orders. "Is the time for my advance 
come?" he asked his general. "He repeated the question," writes Long- 
street, "and without opening mj^ lips I bowed in answer." "Sir," cried 
Pickett, "I shall lead my division forward." 

A MOST DESPERATE ASSAULT. 

At the head of his command he rode gallantly and gracefully down 
the slope into this thunderous scene of carnage. Longstreet has told 
how he looked, with his "jaunty cap raked well over his right ear, 
and his long auburn locks, nicely dressed, hanging almost to his shoul- 
ders. He seemed rather a holiday soldier than a general at the head of 
a column which was about to make one of the grandest and most desper- 
ate assaults recorded in the annals of wars." 

His cooluess is illustrated by an incident which occurred shortly 
after he had given orders to his brigade commanders to prepare for 
the charge. "He was sitting on his horse," says a Confederate colonel 
of artillery, "when General Wilcox rode up to him, and, taking a flask 
of whiskey from his pocket, said: 'Pickett, take a drink with me. In an 
hour you will be in hell or glory ! ' 'Be it so. General Wilcox,' returned 
Pickett, taking the proffered drink; 'whatever my fate I shall do my duty 
like a brave man.' " 

Down the hill went the 5000 Virginians with the precision and 
regularity of a parade. When a short distance from their starting point, 
they obliqued to the right and then to the left, so as to secure cover in 



GENERAL GEORGE E. PICKETT. 419 

the uudulations of tlie ground over whicli they were crossing. As they 
reached the Emmittsburg road, the Confederate guns, which had fired 
over their heads to cover the movement, ceased, and there stood exposed 
those devoted troops, as a cloudburst of flame, shot and shell came thun- 
dering from the ridge into their ranks. There was no halting, no 
wavering. Through half a mile of shot and shell pressed Pickett and 
his men. It was no sudden impetus of excitement that carried them 
through this terrible ordeal, where every inch of air vibrated and 
thrilled with the wing of death, and where everjr footprint was "red-wfci'' 
with the dew of destruction and terrible slaughter. 

WILD YELLS OF DEFIANCE. 

Steadil}^ the heroic 5000, with rapidly thinning ranks, pressed 
forward. When within a short distance of the Federal line, their wild 
yells of defiance were heard above the thundering of the guns. Onwai'd 
they dashed with a wild disordered rush. Garnett, whose brigade was in 
advance, fell dead within a hundred 3^ards of the Union front. His 
men rushed madly upon the 69th and 71st Pennsylvania regiments, who 
had been awaiting the oncoming attack. General Hancock threw a force 
on Pickett's flank, and two of Armistead's regiments were frightfully cut 
up and disorganized by this movement. Armistead, swinging his 
sword wildly, urged his men forward, and reached the front rank, where 
he was shot down; but Pickett is unscathed in the storm. His flashing 
sword has taken the key of the enemy's position, and again and again 
the Confederate flag is lifted through the smoke. 

"With what breathless interest we watched the struggle," writes the 
Confederate officer already quoted. "General Lee, from a convenient 
point, stood calmly looking at the struggle. Not an expression of the 
face or an action indicated that he had other than hopes of success. He 
was imperturbable as a rock. What emotions swayed his soul at that 
supreme moment he and God alone knew." 

The first line of the Federals was driven back upon the earthworks 
near the artillerj'. There the work of death was renewed with frightful 



420 GENERAL GPLORGE K. PICKETT. 

slaughter. Charges of grape-shot were fired into Pickett's men with 
terrible effect. The contestants became mixed in a confused mass, the 
only way of distinguishing one from the other being the blue and gra}' 
uniforms. The fighting became like that of an infuriated mob. "Con- 
federates and Federals faced each other with clubbed muskets, their faces 
distorted with the fury of madmen. Commands were useless; they 
could not be heard above the din. A clump of trees just within the angle 
wall became the objective point of the Confederates. Armistead resolved 
to take it. Placing his hat on his sword, he rallied about him 150 men, 
who were willing to follow wherever he would lead. Rushing forward with 
his gallant band, he reached a Federal gun, and just as he had adjured 
his followers to 'give them the cold steel, bo\'sI' he fell dead in his tracks, 
pierced with bullets." 

The death of this gallant officer marked the complete failure of the Coo- 
federate assault, and, beaten but undismaN-ed, the remnant of Pickett's 
men retraced their way across the field now strewn with their dead. 
Riding up to General Lee, Pickett dismounted, and saluting, said in a 
voice tremulous with emotion: "General, my noble division has been 
swept away." "It was all my faitlt ; get together and let us do the best 
we can toward saving that which is left us," was Lee's quiet repl}'. 

Thus at Gett3'sburg the right arm of the Confederacj' was broken, 
and it must always stand out in the Confederate annals like 

"Flodden's fatal field, 

Where shivered was fair Scotland's spear, 

And broken was her shield." 

After the war General Pickett returned to Richmond, where he 
spent the remainder of his da^'s as a life iusurauce agent, and died a* 
Norfolk, Va., July 30, 1875. 






-r^l 











aftfe- 



CHAPTER XXX. 

GEN. PHILIP H.SHERIDAN. 

BRILLIANT AND DARING CAVALRY 
LEADER — HIS FAMOUS EXPLOIT IN 
THE SHENANDOAH VALLEY — MAG- 
NETIC COMMANDER — QUICK TO 
DECIDE AND BOLD TO EXECUTE — 
HIS DAZZLING CAREER. 



General Sheridan was born in Albany, N. Y., March 6, 1831, and 
received his early education at the public schools of that city. He entered 
West Point Academy as a cadet in July, 1848, and was a classmate of 
Generals James B. McPherson, John M. Schofield and John B. Hood. 
During his life at West Point a quarrel arose between himself and a 
cadet file-closer, in consequence of which young Sheridan was suspended 
from the academy. He was allowed to return at the end of a year, how- 
ever, and graduated July i, 1853. 

On the same day he was appointed brevet second lieutenant in the 
3d infantry, serving in Kentucky, Texas and Oregon. In November, 
1854, he became second lieutenant in the 4th infantry, and in 1861 was 
promoted to first lieutenant. In May of the same year he was appointed 
captain of the 13th infantry, and in December he was chief quartermaster 
and commissary of the army in Southwestern Missouri. Between April 
and September, 1862, he served as quartermaster under General Halleck 
during the Mississippi campaign. 

At the time of the advance upon Corinth he was selected for active 

field service, made colonel of 2d Michigan cavalry, and at the beginning 

of July was ordered to make a raid on Booneville. He availed himself so 

well of this first opportunity for display of military skill, and performed 

421 



422 



GENERAL PHILIP H. SHERIDAN. 



^^. 



sTich efficient service during that month, that he was rewarded by the 
appointment as brigadier-general of volunteers, and in October of the 
same j-ear commanded the nth division of the Army of the Ohio, and 
participated in the battle of Perryville ; and the success of tlie National 

forces in this en- 
gagement may be 
largely credited 
to the gallant ac- 
tion of Sheridan. 
After carrying 
relief to Nash- 
ville in the month 
following, he was 
placed in com- 
mand of adivision 
of the Army of 
the Cumberland. 
His share in the 
battle of Stone 
River, December 
31 and January i, 
was prominent 
and in the highest 
degree commend- 
able. He was act- 
'"'-■'' '^' ing under Gen- 

PHILIP H. SHERIDAN. eral Rosecrans — 

General Bragg, commanding the Confederate army opposing. Sheridan 
was compelled to stand the brunt of the fight, and at one time the 
fate of the day rested on him. It was only by the most courageous 
resistance, the most daring and brilliant action, that he was enabled 
with his own division to hold the entire opposing force in check while 
Rosecrans should have opportunity to form new lines ; and General 




GENERAL PHILIP H. SHERIDAN. 423 

Bragg was at length forced to fall back, leaving Sheridan with but a 
handful of men. "Here are all that are left," said Sheridan to Rosecrans 
after that engagement. 

In recognition of his valiant behavior he was made major-general of 
volunteers, and during March, 1862, pursued Van Dorn to Columbia and 
Franklin, taking many prisoners. During the summer of that year he 
participated in the capture of Winchester, crossed the Cumberland 
Mountains and Tennessee River, and assisted in the terrible battle of 
Chickamauga in September. 

The battle of Mission Ridge was the occasion of some of Sheridan's 
most dashing and brilliant service during the war. This occurred in 
November, and in this engagement Sheridan's distinguished action first 
recommended him to the favorable opinion of General Grant, under whose 
direction that battle was conducted. From that day forth Grant marked 
Sheridan as pre-eminently a man to be selected for important service, 
where skill and daring should be required. 

HEROIC CAVALRY LEADER. 

On April 4, 1864, Grant placed Sheridan in command of the cavalry 
corps of the Army of the Potomac, and in this capacity he participated 
with Grant in the battle of the Wilderness in May. As a cavalry leader 
Sheridan was now at his best and thoroughly at home. The next few 
weeks saw a series of brilliant, dashing raids, success following success 
until, by the end of June, scarcely a company of the Confederate forces 
in Virginia had escaped suffering at one time or another from his fierce 
onslaughts. Having under his command similar men to himself, in 
Merritt, Custer and others, he cut his way by quick, daring charges, 
from place to place, harassing and threatening the enemy at every point. 
In August Sheridan was appointed commander of the Army of Shenan- 
doah — consisting of the 6th corps, two divisions of the 8th, and two 
cavalry divisions— while a few days after his command was extended to 
the Middle Military Division. 

The duty that now lay before him was to rout the enemy from the 



424 GENERAT, PHILIP M. SHERIDAN. 

Valley of Virginia and destroy their supplies. This was a portion of 
General Grant's plan. The latter was stationed with the Army of the 
Potomac at City Point, opposing Lee. Sheridan's force had been aug- 
mented by the i8th corps under Emor3% while the opposing Confederate 
army was commanded by Earl}'. In spite of the great confidence which 
Grant placed in Sheridan, he was willing to give the final order only with 
great caution. Going from City Point to Harper's Ferry, Grant met 
Sheridan, and instructed him to remain quiet until Lee had drawn away 
some of the Confederate force in the valley. Immediately after this was 
done, the final order was given and Sheridan was instantly on the 

advance. 

ENEMY ROUTED AND SCATTERED. 

General Grant's report reads as follows : " He was off promptly on 
time, and I may add that I have never since deemed it necessary to visit 
General Sheridan before giving him orders." Starting on September 
19, Sheridan met General Early crossing the Opequan, and routed him 
completely, pursuing him through Winchester past Fisher's Hill, thirty 
miles south, and through Harrisonburg and Staunton, finally scattering 
his forces throughout the passes of the Blue Ridge. He then ordered 
a detachment under Torbert to devastate Staunton and the adjoining 
country, so that Early's troops might be unable to find means of leaving 
should they return there and endeavor to reorganize. In this rout, 
Sheridan took 5CX)o prisoners and five guns. His forces were now rest- 
ing near Cedar Creek, and Sheridan himself, appointed brigadier-general 
in the regular army for his successes, had gone to Washington. 

The Confederate army, in the meantime, received a considerable rein- 
forcement from Longstreet, and, acting with the utmost celerity and 
secrecy, crossed the Shenandoah, and on October 18 approached within a 
short distance of the camp of the National forces. Early in the morning 
of the next day, they suddenly attacked the camp, utterly suprised 
Sheridan's army and forced it to make a precipitate retreat. Sheridan 
had by this time reached Winchester, twenty miles distant, and, hearing 
the sounds of a battle, leaped on horseback and covered the twenty miles 



GENERAL PHILIP H. SHERIDAN. 425 

with breathless speed, meeting his retreating troops at about ten o'clock. 
With his arrival, the men took heart again and almost instantly the tide 
of the battle changed. '' Face the other way, boys," he shouted ; " we 
are going back." 

And back the}^ went, carrying overwhelming victory with them. 
The Confederate troops partially disorganized, were devoting themselves 
chiefly to plundering the camp, and were least of all things expecting 
such a spirited return of the force which they had so recently routed. 
The part of the Confederate army still in line was thrown back and 
overwhelmed, while the whole force was scattered and pursued as far as 
Mt. Jackson. Then, acting under Grant's orders, Sheridan completely 
devastated the valley, thus destroying all possible resources of the enemy 
in that region. Sheridan's ride was one of the most brilliant and suc- 
cessful exploits of the Civil War, and has been deservedly immortalized 
in painting and sculpture, as well as by the well-known poem by R. 
Buchanan Read, which celebrates his famous ride. 

FOR PERSONAL GALLANTRY AND MILITARY SKILL. 

Sheridan was made major-general in the regular army, and the 
President's order reads : "For personal gallantry, military skill, and just 
confidence in the courage and patriotism of his troops, displayed by Philip 
H. Sheridan on the igtli of October at Cedar Run — where, under the 
blessing of Providence, his routed army was reorganized, a great national 
disaster averted, and a brilliant victory achieved over the enemy for the 
third time in pitched battle within thirty day,s — Philip H. Sheridan is 
appointed major-general in the United States Arm}-, to rank as such from 
the 8th day of November, 1864." In honoi of Sheridan's victories Grant 
ordered that a salute of a hundred guns should be fired by each of his 
armies, and he further stated of Sheridan : "I have always thought him 
one of the ablest of generals." 

Sheridan's greatest raid was in March, 1865, with 10,000 cavalry, 
which extended from Winchester to Petersburg. During this raid he 
met Early at Waynesboro, routed and pursued him to Charlottesville. 



426 



GENERAL PHILIP H. SHERIDAN. 



Afterwards, joining the Army of the Potomac, he served with consum- 
mate skill and bravery at the engagement of Five Forks, which was one 
of the most decisive of the war, and had much to do with compelling Lee 




SHERIDAN'S CAVALRY CHARGE AT CEDAR CREEK. 

to evacuate Petersburg and Richmond. Grant, speaking of Sheridan's 
action, said : "Here he displayed great generalship." 

The remaining few days of the war Sheridan was engaged in harass- 
ing the army of Northern Virginia, carrying his raids as far down as 



GENERAL PHILIP H. SHERIDAN, 427 

South Boston, N. C, and as late as the 24th of April — several days after 
Lee's surrender and tlie formal close of the war. 

During the 3'ears immediately following the war Sheridan served as 
commander in various departments throughout the country. From July, 
1866, to March, 1867, he commanded the Department of the Gulf From 
September of the latter year until March, 1868, he assumed charge of 
the Department of the Missouri, with headquarters at Fort Leavenworth 
Kansas, during which he was engaged in a campaign against the Indians. 
He then was placed in command of the Military Division of the Mississippi, 
holding headquarters at Chicago. Congress had revived the rank of 
lieutenant-general and general-in-chief for Grant, and upon his election 
to the presidency in 1869, Sherman, who had followed him as lieutenant- 
general, became general-in-chief, and Sheridan was promoted to the 
lieutenant-generalship. 

Sheridan visited Europe in 1870, and was present with the German 
staff during a portion of the Franco-Prussian War. He was married in 
1879 to Miss Rucker, a daugther of General D. H. Rucker, of the United 
States Ann}'. In 1883 General Sherman retired, leaving Sheridan his 
successor as general-in-chief of the United States Army. The last years 
of General Sheridan were very quiet. In May, 1888, he contracted the 
illness which proved fatal to him a few weeks later. 

Like all the eminent generals of our late war, he has left behind him 
in his personal memoirs the record of his distinguished services to his 
country. His courage was indomitable, and from the very jaws of defeat 
he frequently sprang to victory. Faithful and trustworthy in the perform- 
ance of duty assigned him, he was far more than this. His unflinching 
bravery in moments of utmost danger, his brilliant and daring leadership, 
and his rare military skill — which at times seemed almost inspiration — 
entitle him to the highest place in the admiration and esteem of his fellow- 
countrymen. 





CHAPTER XXXI. 

'^ .i^ ' -^*^^ I ^EN. WILLIAM T. SHERMAN. 

HIS WONDERFUL MARCH TO THE SEA — MEMBER 
OF A DISTINGUISHED FAMILY — A FEARLESS 
LEADER IN DIFFICULT UNDERTAKINGS — HERO- 
ISM AT THE BATTLE OF SHILOH — MADE LIEU- 
TENANT-GENERAL OF THE ARMY. 

In 1634, three Shermans came from England to this country. Of 
these three, two were brothers ; and the third, a cousin ; and to one of 
these brothers. Rev. John Sherman by name, General W. T. Sherman 
traces his lineage. The family first settled in Connecticut, whence a 
later branch moved to Lancaster, Ohio ; and in that place, on the 8th of 
February, 1820, General Sherman was born. His father, a lawyer, and for 
five 3'ears judge of the Supreme Court, was the head of a large family, 
William Tecumseh being the sixth of the eleven children. 

After his father's death, William was adopted by Thomas Ewing, 
and attended school in Lancaster until 1836, when he became a cadet at 
West Point, a classmate of George H. Thomas, and graduated standing 
sixth in a class of 42. In 1840, the year of his graduation, he was com- 
missioned as second lieutenant in the 3rd artiller}', and his first service 
was in Florida, where a small remnant of the Indian War still remained. 
In 1841, he was placed in command at Picolata as first lieutenant. He 
served later at Fort Morgan, Ala., and Fort Moultrie, Charleston harbor ; 
but neither of these places were calculated at that time to satisfy a taste 
for war, the latter being more of a fashionable summer resort for the in- 
habitants of Charleston than a site for active military service. Sherman 
was more than the ordinary practical military man, with a taste for 
adventures. 

428 



GENERAL WILLIAM T. SHERMAN. 



429 



Both at West Point and in his first days of service, he displayed 
those superior qualities of the scholar aud soldier combined which earned 
for him his later position of honor. His ideals were ever high, and he 




WILLIAM T. SHERMAN. 
was always seriously impressed with the glory and honor of service to his 
country. In 1843, ^^^ began the study of law, and this not with the pur- 
pose of practising at the bar, but simply to make of himself a more skil- 
ful and intelligent soldier. All his friends knew what was his chief 
ambition and aim. 



jliSiiS^E^^^iri™"?^ 




GENERAL WILLIAM T. SHERMAN, 4;U 

In the Mexican War lie acted as adjutant to Generals S. W. 
Kearny, P. S. Smith and Colonel Mason, and for his service in California 
lie was breveted captain. In 1850, he returned to Washington, and on 
May ist married Miss Ellen Boyle Ewing, a daughter of his old friend, 
at that time Secretary of the Interior. Sherman, shortly after his 
marriage, was appointed captain in the commissary department and was 
sent to St. Louis and New Orleans. As all his old West Point mates 
were pursuing quiet paths of life, and there seemed to be little chance 
of promotion in such peaceful times, Sherman resigned his commission 
in September, 1853, and accepted au appointment as manager of a branch 
bank of Lucas, Turner & Co., of San Francisco. 

ENGAGED IN VARIOUS PURSUITS. 

The following few years his life and pursuits were varied. The 
banking firm closed up its affairs in 1857 i ^^^ i^i 1858-9, Sherman 
practiced law in Leavenworth, Kansas ; and in the year following, super- 
intended the State Military Academy at Alexandria, La. On the seces- 
sion of that State, however, he went to St. Louis, where he was for a 
brief period the president of the Fifth Street Railroad. 

On the opening of the Civil War, Sherman entered with heart and 
soul into the cause of the Northern States. On the 13th of May, 1861, 
he was commissioned colonel of the 13th regiment of infantr}'-, to be com- 
manded by General Scott, then at Washington. Sherman was placed in 
command of a brigade in Tyler's division of the army, marching to Bull 
Run. This brigade consisted of the 13th, 69th and 79th New York, and 
the 2d Wisconsin regiments, which in the terrible engagement that fol- 
lowed suffered serious losses. 

In August, Sherman was made brigadier-general of volunteers, and 
was sent from the Army of the Potomac to serve under General Anderson 
in Kentucky. In Nov^embar, General Buell relieved him of this com- 
mand, and Sherman was ordered to report to General Halleck, who placed 
him in command of Benton Barracks. 

It was in February, 1862, that General Grant moved on Forts 



f ,ft« 







GENERAL WILLIAM T. SHERMAN. 433 

Heury and Donelson, and after their capture Sherman was placed in 
command of the 5th division of the Army of the Tennessee. In the 
battle of Shiloh, Sherman's service was especially notable. This occurred 
on the 6th and ytli of April ; and as Sherman's position was in the very 
centre of the fight, an excellent opportunity was afforded him of showing 
his superior mettle. Of his behavior during that engagement, General 
Grant wrote in his report : '' I feel it a duty to a gallant and able officer, 
Brigadier-General W. T. Sherman, to make mention. He was not only 
with his command during the entire two days of the action, but displayed 
great judgment and skill in the management of his men. To his in- 
dividual efforts, I am indebted for the success of that battle." General 
Halleck also says : "Sherman saved the fortunes of the day on the 6th, 
and contributed largely to the glorious victory of the 7th." 

ORDERED TO THE DEFENSE OF MEMPHIS. 

General Halleck became general-in-chief, with Grant appointed to 
the command of the Department of the Tennessee, and with this change 
Sherman was made major-general of volunteers, and was ordered by 
General Grant to Memphis, with directions to place the city in a state 
of defense. The next move of the National forces was against Vicks- 
burg, which was covered by a Confederate arni}^ commanded by General 
Pemberton ; and in the advance, Sherman proceeded with his forces 
from Memphis to Wyatt, turning Pemberton's left, who retreated to 
Grenada. The plan then proposed and attempted was that Sherman 
should return to Memphis with one brigade, reorganize a sufficient force, 
and move down the river in gunboats against Vicksburg, conducted by 
Admiral Porter, while Grant retained Pemberton in check at Grenada. 

Natural causes, however, rendered this plan impracticable, and 
shortly after General McClernand, arriving with orders from the Presi- 
dent to assume command of the expedition, the Army of Tennessee was 
divided into the 13th, 15th, i6th and 17th corps, and Sherman was 
placed in command of the 15th. In the engagement which followed 
shortly after, and which ended with the capture of Vicksburg on July 4, 

2S 



434 GENERAL WILLIAM T. SHERMAN. 

1863, General Sherman's service was most active, and as a reward for his 
able and brilliant share in that notable fight he was appointed brigadier- 
general in the regular army. 

At this time, Rosecrans was expelling the enemy from Central 
Tennessee, and after forcing them from Chattanooga and fighting the 
terrible battle of Chickamauga, he was compelled to rest in Chattanooga 
awaiting relief for liis depleted force. Sherman was ordered with his 
corps to proceed by wa}' of Memphis towards Chattanooga, but received 
on his way orders from Grant to march with all speed to Bridgeport, on 
theTennesseee. In the sharp action which took place shortly afterwards 
at Mission Ridge, Sherman's corps was the centre of the enemy's attack. 
Without treating that engagement in detail, it may be said that Sherman's 
best service there was in drawing the enemy to his flank, enabling 
Thomas to make a successful attack upon the ridge. 

THE GREAT MARCH TO THE SEA. 

On the 25th of November, the enemj^ were driven before Sherman 
in the roads north of the Chickamauga. On December 3, under Grant's 
orders, he proceeded to Burnside's relief at Knoxville, and after render- 
ing sufficient assistance returned to Chattanooga. During the early 
part of 1864, Sherman was engaged at Jackson and Meridian, break- 
ing up Confederate combinations and destroying communications. In 
March, Grant assumed command of the armies, and Sherman was placed 
in command of the Mississippi division, comprising the Departments of 
the Ohio, Tennessee, Cumberland and Arkansas, with headquarters at 
Nashville. For his recent services in the Chattanooga campaigu. 
General Sherman received the formal thanks of Congress. It was on the 
loth of April that he received final orders to move against Atlanta, and 
the great triumphal march began which has ever since been associated 
in words of highest eulogy with the name of Sherman. His advance 
towards Atlanta was steady and sure. 

Pressing the opposing force under General Johnston constantlj^ 
backward, he began the direct attack on Atlanta, July 17. In the several 



GENERAL WILLIAM T. SHERMAN. 



43.^ 



battles at Peach Tree Creek, Ezra Church, and again on the east side of 
the city, the National forces were notably successful. Sherman sent 
General Thomas to Nashville to resist the advance of General Hood — 
an expedition that resulted in the disastrous defeat of the latter. 




INTERVIEW BETWEEN GENERALS SHERMAN AND JOHNSTON. 

Sherman, with the remainder of his forces, moved on against Savannah, 
finding nothing now to oppose his advance. Savannah was promptlj' 
taken, and General Sherman wrote to President Lincoln : "I beg to 
present you, as a Christmas grift, the City of Savannah, with 150 lieav^' 
guns, plenty of ammunition, and 25,000 bales of cotton." The victor}- 
was hailed with rejoicing. 



436 GENERAL WILLIAM T. SHERMAN. 

The march of Sherman has received many a tribute of praise, but 
the value of the achievement cannot be too highly estimated by the 
adherents to the Northern cause. In August he was appointed major- 
general in the regular army, and in January following he again received 
the thanks of Congress. Sherman, leaving Savannah in February, 
marched north, meeting some opposition, but reaching Goldsboro on 
March 24th, where he met Schofield. Leaving his troops there, he 
joined the conference of General Grant, Admiral Porter and President 
Lincoln at City Point. This interview over, and the policy adopted 
which brought the war to a close soon after, he returned to (ioldsboro, 
ready to cut off Lee's retreat or to reinforce Grant in front of Richmond 
for a final attack, if necessary. 

ASKED SHERMAN THE TERMS OF SURRENDER. 

On April 12, Lee surrendered to Grant at Appomattox, and Johnston, 
receiving the news at Greensboro, sent a message to Sherman on the 
14th asking on what terms he would receive a surrender. The terms 
arranged in the interview and correspondence which followed were con- 
sidered by the government as entireh' too lenient, and they were there- 
fore disapproved of, and the matter was re-negotiated. This slight to 
General Sherman was undeserved, for an examination of the matter will 
reveal the fact that he acted throughout the part of a courteous, con- 
siderate and humane commander. The great tide of feeling in Washing- 
ton, aroused by the assassination of President Lincoln, may have given 
partial cause for the curt manner in which the government treated the 
matter. General Sherman's behavior throughout was above reproach. 
On the President requesting to see him, he stated in his inierview that 
the oflfense to him lay in the tone and style of the publication, the 
insinuations it contained and the false inferences it gave rise to, and not 
the disapproval on the part of the government, of his terms of agree- 
ment with Johnston. 

In the grand review at the close of the war, and in fact on all fitting 
public occasions, General Sherman received the genuine and enthusiastic 



GENERAL WILLIAM T. SHERMAN. 437 

tributes which he had well earned. His life after the war was very quiet. 
From June, 1865, to March, 1869, he had headquarters at St. Louis, com- 
manding the Military Division of the Mississippi, comprising the Depart- 
ments of the Ohio, Missouri and Arkansas. In July, 1866, he became 
lieutenant-general, and on the election of General Grant to the presidency, 
in 1869, Sherman succeeded him as general and took up his headquarters 
at Washington. 

On February 8, 1884, he was placed, at his own request, on the 
retired list, vith full pay, leaving General Sheridan his successor as 
general-in-chief. To his military honors was added the degree of 
LL. D., conferred upon him by Dartmouth, Yale, Harvard and Prince- 
ton, in recognition of his superior worth as a scholar as well as a soldier. 
The sterling qualities which General Sherman displayed on the battle- 
field commanded the admiration of friends and foes alike, while the 
genuine, noble and sympathetic heart which beat within his breast made 
friends of foes, and won for him the love and respect of a nation. 
He died, February 14, 1891. 

General Sherman came from a distinguished family. He was a 
brother of the Hou. John Sherman, who was for many years United 
States Senator from Ohio, and the author of several important measures, 
which gave him a wide celebrity. General Sherman was an illustrious 
example of the cultivated scholar and statesman in war. While a brave 
and competent commander, he was a true and noble citizen, a loyal 
friend, and a patriot whose absorbing passion was love of country. 




."m^-iyW^-W GENERAL ROBERT E. LEE. 

fajmous commander-in-chief of the 
confederate armies — wis masterly 
generalship — handsome presence 
and cordial manner — type of the 
noblest kind of soldier — touch- 
ing scenes in his military career 



Lord Wolseley, who visited General Lee's headquarters in 1862 
subsequently wrote that "Lee is stamped on my memory as a being apart 
and superior to all others in every way." The man who elicited this some- 
what extravagant eulogium was descended from fine stock. The Lees 
of Virginia, to whom the eminent Confederate soldier owed his origin, 
were an illustrious family of the State that has been designated the 
"Mother of Presidents." He was the son of the Revolutionary General 
Henry Lee, known as "Light-horse Harry," and was graduated from 
West Point in 1829, ranking second in a class of forty-six, and was com- 
missioned as second lieutenant in the engineers. 

At the beginning of the Mexican war he was assigned to duty as 
chief engineer of the army under General Wool, with the rank of cap- 
tain. His abilities as an engineer and his conduct as a soldier won the 
special recognition of General Scott, who attributed the fall of Vera Cruz 
to his skill, and repeatedh' singled him out for commendation. He was 
thrice breveted during the war, his last brevet to the rank of colonel 
being for services at the storming of Chapultepec. 

In 1852 he was assigned to the command of the Military Academy 
at West Point, where he remained about three j^ears. He wrought 
great improvements in the academ\-, notably enlarging its course of 

43§ 



GENERAL ROBERT E. LEE. 



439 



study, and elevating it to a rauk equal to that of the best military 
schools of Europe. Ou April 20, 1861 — three days after the Vir- 
ginia Convention adopted an ordinance of secession — Lieutenant. 
Colonel Lee resigned his commission in the United States Army, in 
obedience to his conscientious conviction that he was bound by the act of 
his State. 

At that time, in a letter to his sister, the wife of an oiiicer in the 
National army, he gave the only authenticated expression of his 
opinion and sentiments on the 
subject of secession : — 

" We are novi^, " he wrote, 
" in a state of war which will 
yield to nothing. The whole 
South is in a state of revolution, 
into which Virginia, after a long 
struggle, has been drawn ; and 
though I recognize no necessity 
for this state of things, and 
would have forborne and pleaded 
to the end for redress of griev- 
ances, real or supposed, yet in 
my own person I had to meet the 
question whether I should take 
part against my native State. 

"With all my devotion to 
the Union, and the feeling of loyalty and duty of an American citizen, I 
have not been able to make up my mind to raise my hand against my 
relatives, my children, my home. I have therefore resigned my com- 
mission in the army, and, save in defence of my native State — with 
the sincere hope that my poor services may never be needed — I hope 
I may never be called upon to draw my sword." 

Repairing to Richmond, he was made commander-in-chief of the 
Virginia State forces, and in May, 1861, when the Confederate govern- 




ROBERT E. LEE. 



440 GENERAL ROBERT E. LEE. 

luent was removed from Montgomery to Richmond, he received his 
commission as full general. During the early months of the Avar he 
rendered inconspicuous services in the western part of Virginia. In the 
autumn he was dispatched to the coast of South Carolina, where he 
planned and in part constructed the defensive lines which successfully 
lesisted all efiforts directed against them till the very close of the war. 
General Lee was ordered to Richmond on March 13, 1862, assigned to 
dut}^ "under the direction of the President, " and " charged with the 
conduct of miltary operations in the armies of the Confederacy. " 

ONE IMPORTANT BATTLE. 

The campaign of the preceding year in Virginia had embraced but 
one battle of importance; it was that known as Bull Run or Manassas, 
and the Confederate success there had not been followed b}^ any demon- 
stration more active than an advance to Centreville and Fairfax Court- 
house, wdth advanced posts on Mason's and Munson's Hills. Meantime 
McClellan had been more or less successfully wrestling with the problem 
of converting raw levies into disciplined troops, and reorganizing' the 
National army. When, after many delays, he was finally prepared to 
advance, the Confederates retired to the south side of the Rappahannock, 
whereupon McClellan transferred his base of operations to Fort Monroe; 
and advanced upon Richmond by way of the Peninsula. 

To counteract this move, General Joseph E. Johnston removed his 
arm}' to Williamsburg, leaving Jackson's division in the valle}-, and 
Ewell's on the line of the Rappahannock. In May Johnston fell back to 
make his stand in defence of Richmond, immediatey in front of the town. 
McClellan advanced to a line near the city with his army of more than 
100,000 men, and, under the mistaken impression that Johnston's force 
outnumbered his own,' waited for McDowell, who was advancing with 
40,000 men from the neighborhood of Fredericksburg, to join him. To 
checkmate the advance of this reinforcement, General Lee ordered Ewell 
to join Jackson, and directed the latter to attack Banks in the Shenan- 
doah Valley, drive him across the Potomac, and thus seem to threaten 



GENERAL ROBERT E. LEE. 441 

Washington. The strategy was entirely successful. Washington was 
alarmed and McDowell was recalled. 

McClellan now etablished himself on the Chickahominy, with a 
part of his army thrown across the stream. A flood came in the end of 
May, and, believing that the swollen river had effectually isolated this 
force. General Johnston attacked it on May 31. Thus eventuated the 
battle of Seven Pines, or Fair Oaks, in which Johnston was seriously 
wounded. McClellan now fortified his lines, and General Lee confronted 
him with a great army, and with the full confidence of the Confederate 
government. Lee's preparations were promptly and energeticall}^ 
executed His capacity as a strategist and commander was first demon- 
strated in that brilliant series of conflicts known as the "Seven Days' 
Battle," by which he frustrated McClellan's plans against Rchmond. 

SUCCESSFUL PLAN OF GENERAL LEE. 

"General Lee's plan," say Messrs. Nicolay and Hay in their Life of 
Abraham Lincoln, "was to herd and drive down the Peninsula a magnifi- 
cent army, superior in numbers to his own, and not inferior in any other 
respect — if we except the respective commanders-in-chief. The measure 
of success he met with will always be a j ustification of his plan." 

Having thus raised the siege of Richmond, Lee's ambition was to 
transfer the scene of operations to a distance from the Confederate 
capital, and thus relieve the depression occasioned in the South by the 
general retreat of its armies in the West. McClellan lay at Harrison's 
Landing, below Richmond, with an army that was still strong, and 
"while the Confederate capital was no longer in immediate danger, the 
withdrawal of the army defending it would invite attack and capture, 
unless McCellan's withdrawal at the same time could be compelled." 

For effecting this, General Lee calculated on the excessive anxiety 
felt at the North for the safety of Washington. If he could so dispose 
of his forces as to place Washington in actual or apparent dan- 
ger, he felt assured that McClellan's army would be speedily 
recalled. The series of movements and manoeuvres that followed cul- 




442 STUART'S CAVALRY CUTTING TELEGRAPH WIRES. 



GENERAL ROBERT E. LEE. 44:1 

minated on the morning of August 29, on the same field that the first 
battle of Manassas or Bull Run was fought in 1861. Pope's army, rein- 
forced by McClellan's, was in position, and battle was joined in the 
afternoon. After many determined but unsuccessful assaults upon 
Lee's lines, the National army was driven across Bull Run to Centreville. 
The way now seemed clear to the Southern commander. The esprit 
de corps of his army was at the highest pitch. He felt that he could act 
on the aggressive and transfer the scene of operations to the 
enemy's territory. '' The plan involved the practical abandonment of his 
communications; but the region into which he proposed to march was 
rich in food and forage, and with the aid of his actve cavalry under 
Stuart, he trusted to his abilitj' to sustain his army upon the Northern 
territory." The advance movement was at once inaugurated. 

THE BATTLE AT ANTIETAM. 

On September 5, the army, 45,000 strong, crossed the Potomac 
and took up a position near Frederick, Md., from which it 
might move at will against Washington or Baltimore, or invade Penn- 
sylvania. Simultaneously ''Stonewall" Jackson had been dispatched to 
Harper's Ferry, which, with 11,000 men and all its extensive stores, fell 
into his hands. Both Lee and McClellan reached Sharpsburg, and on 
the lytli of September battle was joined. 

"The conflict of Sharpsburg or Antietam," says a writer on the war, 
"is called a drawn battle. It was such if the immediate result is con- 
sidered. There might be no actual advantage in the fight, but 
McClellan had partly gained his point, and Lee's invasion of Northern 
territory was brought to an end. On the other hand, if we include the 
capture of the garrison at Harper's Ferry, Lee had inflicted greater loss 
upon the enemy than he had suffered. " 

The order assigning General Burnside to succeed McClellan in com- 
mand was received at General Lee's headquarters, at Culpepper Court- 
house, about twenty-four hours after it reached Warrenton. 

Burnside's plan of campaign was to threaten Richmond by an advance 



444 GENERAL ROBERT E. LEE 

over a short line, while at the same time he kept Washington covered. He 
made his base upon the Potomac, and planned to cross the Rappahannock, 
at Fredericksburg. Lee moved promptly to meet this new advance, and 
occupied a line of hills in the rear of the town. In the engagement that 
followed the National commander lost nearly 13,000 men, while the 
Southern loss was but a trifle be3-ond 5000. Without effecting anything, 
the Northern army recrossed the River on December 15, and military 
operations were suspended for the winter. 

After the retreat General Lee went to Richmond "to suggest other 
operations," according to Longstreet; '' but was assured, that the war 
was virtually over, and that we need not harass our troops by marches 
and other hardships. Gold had advanced in New York to 200, and we 
were assured by those at the Confederate capital that in thirty or forty 
days we would be recognized and peace proclaimed. General Lee did 
not share in this belief." 

OPERATIONS AROUND FREDERICKSBURG. 

"Fighting Joe Hooker, " who succeeded Burnside in command of the 
Army of the Potomac, planned a campaign for the purpose of driving 
Lee out of his intrenched position at Fredericksburg. His plan was well 
conceived, and we are assured that "no operation of the war so severely 
tested the skill of the Confederate commander, or so illustrated his 
character, as did the campaign that followed." About the end of April, 
1863, Sedgwick, with 30,000 men, crossed below Fredericksburg, while 
Hooker, with the main bod}', crossed the fords above. 

Leaving about 9000 men in Fredericksburg, Lee marched, on May 
I, to meet Hooker's advance, which he encountered, attacked and 
drove back to Chancellorsville. Dividing his force, he sent Jackson 
with one division of the army to strike Hooker in the rear. 
In the fighting that followed, Jackson received a mortal wound from 
the fire of his own men; but in the end the Northern army was 
"driven with great Joss from the field." jMeantimc- Sedgwick had carried 
the position at Fredericksburg, and had in turn been driven across the 



440 (iKNERAL ROBERT E. LEE. 

river by Lee. The.se contest.s raised the confidence of General Lee's 
army to the highest pitch, and he again resolved to carry the scene of 
active operations to Northern soil. 

Tlie campaign of 1864 began with the advance of the Northern army 
under General Grant, who crossed the Rapidan on Ala}- 4 with 120,000 
men. Lee's opposing force was about 60,000, and he attacked his adver- 
sary with his usual promptitude and courage. Lee's plan of striking the 
ilank of Grant's army as it passed through the Wilderness has been pro- 
nounced above critcism, yet Grant's persistent hammering and superior 
force told the inevitable tale. "It's no use killing these fellows; half a 
dozen take the place of every one we kill ; " is said to have been a 
common remark in Lee's army at this time. 

Pages might be filled with the touching scenes of the great com- 
mander's surrender. ''General," cried one of his men, 'take back the 
word 'surrender;' it is unworthy of you and of us. I have a wife and 
children in Georgia; I have made up my mind to die, but not to sur- 
render." Lee placed his arm around the brave fellow's neck, and, with 
tears streaming down his face, said: "We have done all brave men can 
do. If I permitted another man to be slain, I would be a murderer." 

General Lee laid down his sword in a manly, magnanimous manner, 
without moroseuess or sullen vexation. His mind was pure, his 
character upright. In a remarkable degree he exhibited that inflexible 
devotion to duty which is exemplified in a perfect readiness to sink the 
consideration of self. As the biographers of Abraham Lincoln most 
truly and eloquently say: "Lee's handsome presence and cordial manner 
endeared him to his associates, and made friends of strangers at first 
sight." Three days after his death, which occurred October 12th, 1870, 
his remains were buried beneath the chapel of the University at Lexing- 
ton. In accordance with his request, no funeral oration was pronounced. 



^M^t^y 








CHAPTER XXXIII. 

GENERAL ULYSSES S. GRANT. 

COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF OF THE FEDERAL ARMIES 
IN OUR CIVIL WAR — TWICE PRESIDENT OF THE 
UNITED STATES— PERSONAL TRAITS— RAPID 
RISE IN THE ARMY — BRILLIANT NAME ON THE 
HONOR ROLL OF OUR NATIONAL HEROES. 

General Grant, commander of the Union Army in the Civil War, 
and twice President of the United States, was born at Point Pleasant, 
Clermont County, Ohio, on the 27th of April, 1822. He was the eldest 
son of his parents, Jesse R. Grant and Hannah Simpson — people of mod- 
est and humble circumstances. General Grant's early years were spent 
in assisting his father in farm work and obtaining what rudiments of 
education the village school afforded. 

In the spring of 1839 he became a cadet in the United States Mili- 
tary Academy at West Point, and it was at this time that his name 
acquired the middle initial which has caused so much curiosity. Thomas 
L. Hamer, M. C, who appointed the young cadet to his position, had 
always heard him called by the name Ulysses, and supposing that this 
was his first name and that his middle name was probably that of his 
mother's family, entered him on the official appointment as Ulysses S. 
Grant, instead of Hiram Ulysses Grant, as he had been christened. Fre- 
quent notification was given to the officials concerning this error, but, 
as no one felt authorized to correct it, he was compelled to carry his new 
initial through life. 

Young Grant graduated in 1843, and was immediately commis- 
sioned as a brevet second lieutenant, attached to the 4th Infantr}-, on 

447 



448 



GENERAL ULYSSES S. GRANT. 



duty at Jefferson barracks, not far from St. Louis. In 1845 ^^ became 
second lieutenant and accompanied his regiment to Corpus Christi, join- 
ing the army there under command of General Zachary Taylor. He 

rendered excellent 










service m various 
battles in Mexico 
under Generals Tay- 
lor, Scott and Worth, 
for which he was on 
several occasions 
commended highl}- 
by his superior offi- 
cers. For brave ac- 
tion in the battle of 
Molino del Rey, Sep- 
tember 8, 1847, ^^ 
was breveted first 
lieutenant ; and in 
the advance against 
the City (jf Mexico, 
on September 14, he 
carried out the daring 
and novel project of 
mounting a howitzer 
in the belfry of an 
adjacent church, for 
the purpose of driv- 
ing the enem3- from 
GRANTS BOYHOOD DAYS IN OHIO. a defensive work, an 

idea that resulted so successfully that General Worth sent for him 
and personally complimented him. 

A few days after the entrance of the City of Mexico he was pro- 
moted to first lieutenant. With the withdrawal of the troops in iF48 






GKNERAL ULYSSES S. GRANT. 



44-j 



he obtained leave of absence, and went to St. Louis. It was here that 
he married on the 22d of August, 1848, Miss Julia B. Dent, a sister of 
one of his West Point classmates. During the next four j-ears he was 
ordered to service successively at Sackett's Harbor, N. Y., Detroit, Mich., 
Panama, California, and Fort Vancouver, Oregon. 

In 1S53 he was appointed captain of a company at Humboldt Bay, 
Cal. Growing dissatisfied with this service, however, he resigned his 




LIICUTENANF (".RANT GOING FOR AMMUNITION AT MONTEREY. 

commission in July of the year following, and engaged in farming near 
St. Louis, and later in real estate business in the same city. In i860 
he was compelled, through lack of sxiccess, to give up real estate, and went 
to Galena, 111., where he entered his father's hardware and leather store 
as a clerk. When the news of the firing on Fort Sumter flashed through 
the country about a year later, Captain Grant took a decided stand for 
the Union, raising a compan\' of volunteers, whom he drilled thoroughl}' 
and accompanied to Springfield, 111. 



4no 



GENERAL ULYSSES S. GRANT. 



He was appointed miisteriug officer by Govenior Yates, of Illinois, 

and later colonel 
of the 2 1 St Illi- 
nois Regiment of 
Infantry. This 
regiment he cou- 
dncted to the 
town of Mexico, 
Mo., where Gen- 
eral Pope was 
stationed, and on 
July3i,i86i,was 
appointed under 
Pope to the com- 
mand of three 
regiments of in- 
fantry and a sec- 
tion of artiller}'. 
In August he be- 
came brigadier- 
general of volun- 
teers and a few 
days aftenvards 
was directed to 
report at St. 
Louis, where he 
was placed in 
command of the 
District of South- 
ern Missouri, his 
headquarters be- 
ing at Cairo. During the remainder of the year he was engaged in an 
expedition against Colonel Jeff. Thompson's Confederate forces and in 




GP:NERAL ULYSSES S. GRANT. 



4r.l 



endeavors to suppress efForts at secession in Kentucky. Earh^ in the 
following year, 1862, lie conceived the plan of capturiug Forts Henry aud 
Donelson by the combined efforts of troops and gunboats. General 
Halleck, to whom he applied, however, slighted his plan, and it was only 
after urgeut application and repeated suggestion that he was enabled to 
carry it out. 

On the first of February, however, his expeditiou started, aud, with 
the capture of Fort Heury aud later of Fort Donelson, after several days 
of desperate fighting in harsh weather, the name of General Grant was 
borne on the clarion note of triumph through every town in the Northern 
States. This was 
one of the signal 
victories of the 
Civil War, aud 
it was accom- 
plished with an 
amount of stra- 
tegic skill that 
might well com- 
mand the ad- 
miration even of 
his foes. He was 

at this time made uiajor-general, a prom<jtiou of which he was very 
shortly afterwards deprived for pushing forward without orders from his 
superiors in commaud. On this account he was also compelled to remain 
at Fort Heury ; but ou March 13 his services were again required at 
Corinth. General Grant considerably strengthened the forces there, and 
immediately after the battle of Corinth turned his attention towards 
Vicksburg, with the purpose of capturing it. He started on this expedi- 
tion on November 3, and through all the winter and spring toiled against 
obstacles greater than he had ever encountered before, and tinder the most 
disadvantageous circumstances, with the eventful siege of Vicksburg the 
prospective point in view. 




GRANTS HEADQUARTKKS NKAR FORT L)i iXEl.suN. 



452 



GENERAL ULYSSES S. GRANT. 



Ill this campaign lie was inateriall}- assisted b}' General Sliennan. 
After a series of minor victories, General Grant was enabled at last on 
May i8 to close his forces abont the outworks <if Vicksburg and drive 
the enemy within. He had a force of 71,000 men to conduct the siege 
and protect himself from. General Johnston's army attacking him in the 
rear. His lines, therefore, were pushed closer and closer, and General 
Pemberton, commander of the Confederate troops within tlie citj-, at 



,/^^ 




ULYSSES S. GRANT, 
the Cumberland and the Ohic 



length asked for an armistice. 
General Grant's reply, however, 
was, "Unconditional surrender," 
and on July 4tli the city was 
his. This surrender, with that 
of Port Hudson later, opened 
the Mississippi to the Gulf In 
recognition of these sex'vices 
General Grant was made major- 
general in the regular army, 
and was presented with a gold 
medal by Congress, together 
with a formal expression of 
than'RS to him and his army. 

Ill October he was placed in 

command of the departments of 

the armies of the Tennessee, 

After service in this command durinsf 



the winter he was called to Washington in March, and received from 
the President his commission as lieutenant-general, this rank having 
been revived by act of Congress during February. He was also placed 
in command of all armies, and established his headquarters at Culpepper, 
Va., with the Army of the Potomac, in the latter part of the month. 
General Grant, now fully in command, determined to organize a sys- 
tematic and combined movement against the Confederate forces. 

His idea was to form the National forces into several distinct 



GENERAL ULYSSES S. GRANT. 



453 



armies, these to act at the same lim ■ against the Cuufcdcrate force oppo- 
sing them, and to continue vigorous action so as to prevent any detach- 
ments on the part of the enemy for relief or raiding purposes. Tliis 
policy was pursued . as steadfastly as possible, with the assistance of 
Generals Sherman, Sigel, Sheridan and others, in va-ious quarters, Gen- 
eral Grant remaining with the Army of the Potomac and directing his 
forces chiefly against General Lee. Sherman conducted liis triumphant 
march to the sea with the purpose in mind of joining the Army of the 
Potomac later. This, it had been first determined, should be accomplished 
by transporting 
Sherman's army 
by sea to Vir- 
ginia ; but this 
plan was given 
up, and the de- 
termination was 
formed of march- 
ing north by 
land. Sheridan 
then m a r c li e d 
through the Val- 
ley of Virginia, gra.ni' writing dispatches kefork ckossinu tiik rapidan. 
defeating Early and scattering the forces under his command ; then, 
turning toward the East, he turned round the north of Richmond and 
joined the Ami}' of the Potomac. Grant was then read}- for his final 
campaign. President Lincoln visited him at City Point, where he was 
then stationed, and held a conference with him, in which Sherman and 
Admiral Porter also participated. Sherman tlien rejoined his army, 
the President returned to Washington, and the great campaign began 
for which General Grant had long been planning, and which ended in 
Lee's surrender at Appomattox, in April, 1S65. 

Immediately after the close of the war General Grant hastened to 
Washington to stop the further manufacture and purchase of wai 




nL= 




1 A LI 



454 



GENKRAL ULYSSES S. GRANT. 455 

materials. In the mouths that followed the enthusiastic greetings to 
General Grant knew no bounds. Wherever he went he was feted and 
hailed throughout the Northern States as the hero of the Civil War. 
Congress also, in July, 1866, created the grade of general, a higher rank 
tlian had before existed in the army, and General Grant received his 
commission for this rank as a reward for his faithful and worthy service. 
In 186S he was unanimously nominated b}^ the Republican Conveution 
at Chicago as a candidate for the presidency and defeated the Democratic 
candidate, Horatio Seymour, receiving 214 electoral votes to 80 for his 
opponent. His renomination in 1872 secured for him 286 electoral 
votes to 66 for Mr. Greeley, after a canvass marked for its exciting and 
aggressive character, and abounding in personal abuse on both sides. 

TRIUMPHAL TRIP AROUND THE WORLD. 

On retiring from his second administration; General Grant deter- 
mined to visit the countries of the Old World, and sailed for England on 
the lytli of Alay, 1877. The distinguished concourse of men that assem- 
bled to see him depart formed only the first of a long series of public 
tributes which greeted him at every point during his travels. From 
roj^alty of all nations he received honors rarely bestowed on the most 
distinguished of their own people, and his trip around the globe was 
one continued, pageant, representing on every hand the most enthusiastic 
manifestations of welcome. At the Republican Convention of iSSo his 
name was again presented as a candidate for the presidency, and, but for 
the traditional sentiment against a third presidential term, it may fairly 
be believed that his nomination would have been secured. 

In 1881 General Grant settled in New York City, spending his sum- 
mers at Long Branch. He had hitherto had neither the leisure nor the 
inclination for literary work, his only effort in this line having been a 
vindication of General Fitz-John Porter in the North American Review ; 
but in 1884, when he was somewhat straitened in circumstances on 
account of the great losses incurred by reason of his unfortunate connec- 
tion with Ferdinand Ward, he was engaged to write a series of articles 



4r,6 GENERAL ULYSSES S. GRANT. 

on the war of the rebellion for the Ceutur}' Magazine, treating of his 

principal campaigns. 

This led to his purpose of writing a complete work comprising his 

personal memoirs — a work npon which he was engaged up to the time of 

his death, and which has had since an enormous sale. During the summer 

of 1884 the fii-st symptoms of the disease which finally proved fatal made 

their appearance. He struggled bravely through the year, hastening 

the preparation of his work, setting himself in the face of great bodily 

suffering to complete the volume, the sale of which was to provide for 

his family. In June, 18S5, he was removed to Mount McGregor, near 

Saratoga, where he lived for five weeks, immediately surrounded by his 

famiU' and closer friends, and the centre of a greater circle of a nation 

and world of sympathetic watchers. His work was completed but a few 

days, when, on July 23, 1885, he passed awa}^ and the sombre shadow 

of death fell across a name high on the liouor i-oll of our national 

heroes. 

AN EXAMPLE OF TRUE NOBILITY. 

General Grant was a modest, unassuming man, and these are the 
characteristics of true greatness. Bombast and pretense were foreign to 
his nature. Reared in humble life and unknown until our Civil War 
broke out, he never forgot his early circumstances and surroundings. 
He was a plain man, a rebuke to proud, self-conceited, airy men who 
have wonderful opinions of their own superiority and expect you to 
worship them accordingly. 

It is remarkable that a poor, unknown and modest citizen should 
have risen so rapidly to the highest position in the army and nation. It 
shows military genius of the most brilliant order. Persistency and per- 
severance were his marked qualities, and these are good for young or 
old, and are the sureties of that success we are all seeking. 











CHAPTER XXXIV. 

THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 



BRILLIANT LKADER OF THE "ROUGH RIDERS" 
IN OUR WAR WITH SPAIN— SUPERB HEROISM 
AT THE BATTLE OF SAN JUAN— PERSONAL 
CHARACTERISTICS — ADMIRED BY THE 

MASSES — ACHIEVEMENTS AS PRESIDENT. 

Presidents die, but our government continues with unimpaired vital- 
ity. Stocks fall, but values remain. The government of this Republic 
is based on the bedrock of the constitution, and has in it, we fondly hope, 
the principle of immortality. A stricken nation wept for its beloved 
President, William McKinle}-, biit its grief had in it no element of serious 
doubt or apprehension for the future. There was no interregnum. Theo- 
dore Roosevelt was President of the United States. 

No man ever came to the president's oflSce so young as he, but for 
twenty years he had been in the public eye. He had had more political 
experience and had been more in touch with public events than a large 
number of our presidents previous to their inauguration. He had been 
all his life a student of our history and of public questions. He is a man 
of high standards and strong convictions and intense patriotism. 

His impetuous zeal and earnestness in whatever he undertakes has 
been heretofore one of the main sources of his strength and political 
success. Tempered and sobered by the grave responsibilities of his new 
position, these qualities, wisely directed, will make his administration a 
power for good, full of solid achievement that makes for the peace and 
happiness of the people. While, therefore, the nation mourned with 
unaffected grief for our beloved and honored president, William AIcKinley, 



458 



THEODORE R00SF:VELT. 



there was no cause for alarm or uneasiness for the future. In the lan- 
guage of President McKinley, in one of his public addresses, "The 
structure of the fathers stands secure upon the foundations on which they 
raised it, and is to-day. as it has been in the years past, and as it will be 
in the years to come, the Government of the people, by the people, for the 
people. Be not disturbed. There is no fear for the Republic." 

Theodore Roosevelt was born in New York city on October 27, 1858, 

and comes from a family that 
for generations has been noted 
for its wealth, social position, 
high intelligence, disinter- 
ested public spirit, general 
usefulness and philanthropy. 
The part acted by Presi- 
dent Roosevelt in our war 
with Spain gave him great 
prominence and showed tlie 
sterling characteristics of the 
man. General Wheeler's offi- 
cial account of the first battle 
at Santiago, officially known 
as the battle of Sibony, or La 
Ouasina, thus refers to the 
famous Rough Rider: 

"Colonel Wood's regi- 
ment was on the extreme left 
of the line and too far distant from me to be a witness of the individual 
conduct of the officers and men ; but the magnificent bravery shown by the 
regiment under the lead of Colonel Wood testifies to his courage and skill 
and the enei-gy and determination of his officers, which have been marked 
from the moment he reported to me at Tampa, Fla., and I have abundant 
evidence of his brave and good conduct on the field, and I recommend 
him for the consideration of the Government. I must rely upon his report 




THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 45P 

to do justice to his officers and men, but I desire persoually to add tliat 
all I have said regardiug Colonel Wood applies equally to Colonel 
Roosevelt. 

'' I was immediatel}'^ with the troops of the first and tenth regular 
cavalr3^ dismounted, and I personally noticed their iDrave and good con- 
duct, which will be specially mentioned by General Young." 

"There must have been nearly fifteen hundred Spaniards in front 
and to the sides of us," said Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt just after the 
fight. ''They held the ridges with the rifle pits and machine guns, and 
hid a body of men in ambush in the thick jungle at the sides of the road 
over which we were advancing. Our advance guard struck the men in 
ambush and drove them out. But they lost Captain Capron, Lieutenant 
Thomas, and about fifteen men killed or wounded. 

FIRING THAT WAS ACCURATE AND HEAVY. 

'■ The Spanish firing was accurate, S3 accurate indeed that it sur- 
prised me, and their firing was fearfully heavy. I want to say a word 
for our own men, " continued Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt. "Every 
officer and man did his duty up to the handle. Not a man flinched." 

From another officer who took a prominent part in the fighting, 
more details were obtained. " When the firing began," said he, "Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel Roosevelt took the right wing with Troops G and K, 
under Captains Llewelyn and Jenkins, and moved to the support of 
Captain Capron. who was getting it hard. At the same time. Colonel 
Wood and Major Brodie took tlie left wing and advanced in open order 
on the Spanish right wing. Major Brodie was wounded before the troops 
had advanced one hundred yards. Colonel Wood then took the right 
wing and shifted Colonel Roosevelt to the left. 

" In the meantime, the firing of the Spaniards had increased in 
volume ; but, notwithstanding this, an order for a general charge was 
given, and with a yell the men sprang forward. Colonel Roosevelt, in 
front of his men, snatched a rifle and ammunition belt from a wounded 
soldier, and cheering and yelling with his men, led the advance. In a 



460 



THEODORP: ROOSEVELT. 



moment the bullets were singing like ;i swarm of bees all around them, 
and e\ 'ly instant some poor fellow went down. On the right wing Cap- 
tain M Clintock had his leg broken by a bullet from a machine gun, while 




PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT AS A HUNTER IN HIS YOUNGER DAYS 

four of his men went down. At the same time, Captain Luna, of Troop 
F, lost nine of his men. Then the reserves, Troops K and E, were 
ordered up. 

" There was no more hesitation. Colonel Wood, with the right 



THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 



4G1 



wing, charged straight at a block-house eight hundred yards away, and 
Colonel Roosevelt, on the left, charged at the same time. Up the men 
went, yelling like fiends, never stopping to return the fire of the Spaniards, 
but keeping on with a grim determination to capture the block-house. 
" That charge was the end. When within five hundred yards of the 




(;i>i,()\i:l Roosi.via.T , -opers of the R(irc,ii riders. 

coveted point, the Spaniards broke and ran, and for the first time we had 
the pleasure, which the Spaniards had been experiencing all through 
the engagement, of shooting with the enemy in sight." 

Said an officer of high rank : "I cannot speak too highly of Colonel 
Theodore Roosevelt. He is every inch a fighter, and led a charge of 
dismounted cavalry against men in pits at San Juan successfully. It was 



402 THKODORE ROOSEVELT. 

a wonderful charge, and showed Roosevelt's grit. I was not there, bnt 
I have been told of it repeatedly by those who saw him on the hill." 

Two reports made by Colonel Roosevelt to his superior officer in 
front of Santiago in Jul}^ were given out by the War Department at 
Washington, December 22, 1S9S. Both reports describe the operations 
of the Rt)ugh Riders in the battle of San Juan. 

In his first report, dated July 4th, he mentions bv name many of 
the troopers who distinguished themselves by their bravery. This part 
of the report, which was made by Roosevelt, as lieutenant-colonel in 
charge of the regiment, to Colonel Wood, temporarilv in charge of the 
brigade, gave well-merited praise to our gallant soldiers. 

NOMINATED FOR VICE-PRESIDENT. 

Mr. Roosevelt was the most conspicuous hero of our war with 
Spain. Upon his return he was elected Governor of the State of New 
York. In this responsible office he exhibited the same robust qualities 
and decision of character that had distinguished him through all his 
public career. Against his own protests he was nominated, in 1900, for 
the office of Vice-President and was, with Mr. McKiulev, elected by a 
large majority. 

In the nominating convention, Colonel Young, of Iowa, presented 
his name and spoke as follows : 

" On the ship Yucatan was that famous regiment of Rough Riders 
of tlie far West and the Mississippi Valley (applause). In command of 
that regiment was that fearless young American, student, scholar, 
plainsman, reviewer, historian, statesman, soldier, of the middle Westb}^ 
adoption, of New York by birth. That fleet sailed around the point, 
coming to the place of landing, stood off the harbor, two years ago 
to-morrow, and the navy bombarded that shore to make a place for land- 
ing, and no man who lives who was in that campaign as an officer, as a 
soldier, or as a camp follower, can fail to recall the spectacle ; and, if he 
closes his eyes he sees the awful scenes in that campaign iu June and 
July, 1S98. 



THEODORK ROOSEVELT. 40;^ 

"And the leader of that campaign of one of those regiments shall 
be the name that I shall place l)erore the Convention for the oflfice of 
Vice-President of the Uniled States (applanse). 

" Now, gentlemen of the Convention, I place before yon this distin- 
gnished leader of Repnblicanism of the United States ; this leader of the 
aspirations of the people whose hearts are right, and this leader of the 
aspirations of the yonng men of this conntry. Their hearts and con- 
sciences are with this yonng leader, whom I shall name for the Vice- 





-^ i^i^ , 



I V 

OBVERSE. REVERSE. 

MA.SONIC MEDALLION OF GFOKGE WASHI.NGTOX, PRESENTED TO PRESIDFNT ROOSEVELT AT 
CELEBRATION OF THE ISOth ANNIVERSARY OF WASHINGTON'S INITIATION AS A JIASON. 

Presidency of the United States — Theodore Roosevelt, of New York." 
(Loud cheering.) 

When the roll of States was called, it is needless to say every delegate 
voted for Roosevelt with one exception, and that was himself. A dem- 
onstration of the wildest and most enthusiastic character, and lasting 
half an hour, followed the announcement that Roosevelt was the nomi- 
nee for Vice-President. Palms were waved, the standards of the various 
delegations were hurried to the platform, the band attempted to make 
itself heard amid the loud acclaim, processions of excited, cheering dele- 
gates marched up and down the aisles, and the popular New York Gov- 
ernor was congratulated by as many as could get within reach of him. 

The tragic scenes attending the death of President McKinley will 
ever remain in the memory of the present generation. Mr. Roosevelt 



404 Tni-:()i)()R]': roosicvklt. 

was suddeuly called to take the reins of our national government. 
He reassured tlie people at once by stating it would be his aim to 
pursue absolutely unbroken the line of public policies which President 
McKinley had marked out for the republic. 

President Roosevelt's administration has been signalized by 
several important measures, which have proved liis sturdy character 
and brilliant statesmanship. His action in settling the great coal strike 
of 1902 was a masterly piece of business. After long and patient efforts 
he succeeded in bringing the miners and operators together. He con- 
tinued his negotiations for a settlement, and on October 14, induced the 
operators to submit the whole matter to a Commission, which was 
appointed by the President. With the most consummate tact and wise 
proceedings the great strike was brought to a successful termination, and 
the most threatening and gigantic industrial war of recent ^-ears was 
ended to the satisfaction of all parties concerned. 

THE QUALITIES OF NOBLE MANHOOD. 

Trouble arose between the European Powers and Venezuela con- 
cerning claims made by the former, and President Roosevelt was urged 
to act as arbitrator. He wisely decided to take no part in the con- 
troversy, and at his suggestion it was referred to the tribunal of the 
Hague. He urged upon Congress, and succeeded in having passed a 
bill for the construction of the Panama Canal. 

From his example let all young persons learn the value of high 
aims, hard work, conscientious endeavor, and a warm and generous 
nature. Let them also learn that clean living, honesty of purpose and 
self-reliance must be found iu the make-up of ever}' great character. 
For these reasons the plain people believe in him. They know he is 
more than a mere politician. His enthusiastic devotion to duty, and 
the opportunities to show it, are what make him a hero. 




CHAPTER XXXV. 

DU CHAILLU, LIVINGSTONE 
AND STANLEY. 

MARVELLOUS DISCOVERIES IN THE TROPICS 
— NATIVE TRIBES — ADVENTURES OF 
WORLD-RENOWNED EXPLORERS — LIGHT 
OX THE DARK CONTINENT. 



Paul Du Cliaillu, an American by birth, but a Frenchman by 
parentage, between 1S56 and 1859, traversed the regions of Africa on the 
line of the equator, and made scientific discoveries of great importance. 

A second journey, in whicli Ashango Land was visited, and the 
most westerly buttresses examined of the great mountain range siipposed 
to divide the continent of Africa nearly along the line of the equator, 
was also fruitful of results, and the two expeditions may be looked upon 
as steps towards the realization of that dream of the present age, the 
connection of the eastern and western coasts of Central Africa, a dream 
now become almost a waking reality by the conclusion of Stanley's 
world-famous journeys. 

Du Chain u, whose expenses were paid by a Philadelphia scientific 

society, arrived at the moutli of the Gaboon River, already dotted with 

missionarv settlements, early in 1856, having, in several years' residence 

on the coast as a trader, acquired considerable experience in dealing 

with tlie Mpongwes, the chief native tribe of the coast districts. Being 

anxious to harden himself to the climate of the interior, so often fatal to 

the white man, he took up his' quarters at Baraka, eight miles up the 

river, the station of an American mission founded about 1842. Here 

our hero was most hospitably entertained, and the early part of his 
•ill 4(15 



466 PAUL DU CHAILLU. 

narrative is occupied in describing the results already achieved by the 
little band of Christian teachers there at work, who devoted most of their 
time to the instruction of the children, teaching them to read the Scrip- 
tures in their own language, and to master the first principles of geog. 
raphy and arithmetic. They hoped, b}' these means, gradually to 
change the whole character of the Mpongwe race, many members of 
which have good intellectual ability. 

He spent four years exploring the region, two degrees on each 
side of the equator, making many interesting discoveries and traveling 
about 8000 miles, always on foot, and unaccompanied by white men. 
The results of his travels excited uncommon interest, not only in the 
scientific world, but among all classes of intelligent readers. A work 
published on his explorations contained important contributions to geog- 
raphy, the African tribes and the animals of the " Dark Continent." 

DISCOVERED ANIMALS AND BIRDS. 

His contributions to zoology related mainly to the gorilla and other 
large apes. He shot more than 2000 birds, 60 of which were previously 
unknown, and killed over 1000 quadrupeds. The latter were such as 
live in the forests and jungles of Africa, some specimens of which have 
been shown in our own country. His account of his travels seemed to 
many persons incredible, and was sharply criticised, some of the critics 
maintaining that the whole story was a myth, and was concocted to gull 
the public. Especiall}^ was there incredulity concerning his descriptions 
of the gorilla in his native haunts. 

Du Chaillu's credit and veracity were, however, maintained by some 
men of the highest eminence, and particularly b}' Sir Roderick Murchi- 
son and Professor Owen. The substantial accuracy of his statements 
was soon confirmed by a French expedition which explored the Ogoway 
River, and vindicated the truthfulness of the great explorer's statements. 

On his several journeys and the discoveries he made, Du Chailln 
published a number of works, one of the bast known and most fascinat- 
ing being ''The Land of the Midnight Sun." The interest in his explo- 



PAUL DU CHAILLU. 467 

rations centres cliiefly in the gorilla, and we here append his graphic 

acconnt of a combat witli that monster of the forest. The reader will 

bear in mind that when he first returned to this country he brought with 

him complete specimens, male and female, both skins and skeletons, in 

excellent preservation. He was the first white man who killed a gorilla 

with his own hand, or who had an opportunity to study its habits in its 

native forests. 

The adult male is from five to six feet high, though after death it 

may be stretched beyond this. It far surpasses man in the dimensions 

of the head, neck, body and arms and in the width of the shoulders : 

some are said to measure fi'om seven to nine feet from the end of one 

outstretched hand to that of the other. It is principally an inhabitant 

of the woods. Its favorite mode of progression is on all fours. When it 

assumes the erect posture it flexes the arms upward or crosses them on 

the nape in order to counterbalance the tendenc}- uf the trunk to fall 

forward. 

ENORMOUS JAWS OF GREAT STRENGTH. 

Its strength is enormous not only in the jaws, which can crush the 
barrel of a musket, but in the hands and feet, which it uses in attack and 
defence. The males are very ferocious, generally attacking man ar.d 
animal intruding upon their haunts. If wounded the gorilla is more 
terrible than the lion. The}' advance on the enemy in an erect positior., 
a few steps at a time, beating their breasts with both hands and roaring 
terribl3^ When near enough they spring upon him and destroy him with 
their powerful hands. Few monsters that roam the forest are furnished 
with such powerful means of defence, or use them so savagely. It is 
next to impossible to capture the full-grown gorilla alive. If, however, 
the old ones can be despatched, the young gorilla can be taken. 

The great gorilla, as slain by Du Chaillu — and he shot several large 
males — did not, in any case, appear to die hard ; but it must be remem- 
bered that he allowed the beast to get close upon him before he gave him 
the fatal shot. It is, he says, a maxim with the well-trained gorilla hun- 
ters to reserve their fire till the ver}- last moment. Experience has shown 



4(;s PAUL DU CHAILLU. 

them that — whether the enraged beast takes the report of the gun for an 
answering defiance, or for wliat otlicr reason unknown — if the hunter 
fires and misses, the gorilla at once rushes upon him ; and this onset no 
man can withstand. 

One blow of that huge paw witli its nails, and the poor hunter's 
entrails are torn out, his breast-bone broken, or his skull crushed. It is 
too late to re-load, and flight is vain. No animal is so fatal in its attack 
on man as this, for the reason that it meets him face to face, and uses 
its arms as its weapons of offence, just as a manor a prize fighter would — 
only that it has longer arms, and vastl}' greater strength than the strong- 
est boxer the world ever saw. " In all my hunts," says Du Chaillu, 
"and encounters with this animal, I never knew a grown male to run off. 

WAITING FOR A CHANCE TO FIRE. 

" The hunter, looking with fearful care to his priming, stands still, 
gun in hand, often for five weary minutes, waiting with growing ner- 
vousness for the moment when he ma}- relieve his suspense by firing. I 
have never fired at a male at greater distance than eight yards, and from 
fourteen to eighteen feet is the usual shot. At last the opportunity 
comes ; and now the gun is quickl}- raised, a moment's anxious aim at 
the vast breadth of breast, and then pull trigger. Fortunately, the gorilla 
dies as easily as man ; a shot in the breast, if fairly delivered, is sure to 
bring him down. He falls forward on his face, his long, muscular arms 
outstretched, and uttering with his last breath a hideous death-cr}', half 
roar, half shriek, which, while it announces to the hunter his safety, yet 
tingles his ears with a dreadful note of human agonv." 

In his attack, at least upon man as his adversary, the male gorilla 
has a mode of doing it that is very peculiar ; and if correct, as described 
by Du Chaillu, it has the stamp of being remarkably uniform among 
the species. The similarity of manner taken by several of these male 
beasts, in going to the encounter, is quite surprising, since it looks like 
the result of some drill, which these animals had previou.sly put into 
practice by concert. But the gorilla's brain warrants no such supposi- 



PAUL DU CHAILLU. 



469 



tion ; and bis conduct, general and particnlar, gives proof of the presence 
of only a slender amount of intelligence. "The corresponding small 
amount of brain," says Du Chaillu, " in the male gorilla, and the exces- 
sive preponderance of the cerebellum or back brain, with its enormous 
strength, would seem |»^ 
to corroborate our 
opinion of the exces- 
sive brutality of this 
beast." How then, 
is the uniformity of 
the operation to be 
accounted for ? Is it 
in au}' way instinc- 
tive? Here, however, 
the oddly offensive 
attitude put on by 
the gorilla while en- 
tering the scene of 
conflict shall speak 
for itself 

One day, after 
traveling some hours 
in search of the great 
ape, Du Chaillu tells 
us he found his first 
gorilla in a dense and 
impenetrable part of 

the forest. "Sud- I NCOUNTFR W ITH A GORII LA 

denly Miengai, a native, uttered a little cluck with his tongue. Imme- 
diately I noticed a noise, as of some one breaking down branches or 
twigs of trees. This was the gorilla, I knew at once, by the eager and 
satisfied looks of the men. We walked with the greatest care, making 
no noise at all. The countenances of the men showed that they thought 




470 PAUL DU CHAILLU. 

themselves engaged in a very serions undertaking. Suddenl}- as we 
were creeping along, in a silence which made a heavy breath seem loud 
and distinct, the woods were at once filled with the tremendous barking 
roar of the gorilla. 

"Then the underbrush swayed rapidly just ahead, and presently 
before us stood an immense male gorilla. He had gone through the 
jungle on his all-fours; but when he saw our part}' he erected himself, 
and looked us boldly in the face. He stood about a dozen yards from 
us, and was a sight I think I shall never forget. Nearly six feet high, 
with immense body, huge chest, and great muscular arms, with fiercely 
glaring large deep gray eyes, and a hellish expression of face, which 
seemed to me like some nightmare-vision ; thus stood before us the king 
of the African forest, a terril)le creature to look at. 

BREAST RESOUNDED LIKE A BASS DRUM. 

" He was not afraid of us. He stood there, and beat his breast with 
his huge fists till it resounded like an immense bass drum, which is 
their mode of offering defiance ; meantime giving vent to roar after roar. 
The roar of the gorilhi is the most singular and awful noise heard in 
these African woods, and closel}^ resembles the roll of distant thunder 
along the sk}-. 

" His eyes began to flash fiercer fire as we stood motionless on the 
defensive, and the crest of short hair which stands on his forehead began 
to twitch rapidly up and down, while his powerful fangs weie shown 
as he again sent forth a thunderous roar. And now, truly, he reminded 
me of nothing but some hellish dream-creature — a being of that hideous 
order, half man, half beast, which we find pictured b}' old artists in some 
representations of the infernal regions. He advanced a few steps — then 
stopped to utter that hideous roar again — advanced again, and finalh 
stopped when at a distance of about six yards from us. And here, just 
as he began another of his roars, beating his breast in rage, we fired, and 
killed him. 

"With a groan, which had something terribly human in it, and 3'et 



PAUL DU CHATLLU. 471 

was full of brutishness, he fell forward on his face. The bodj^ shook con- 
vulsively for a few minutes, the limbs moved about in a strugglino- wav, 
and then all was quiet — death had done its work, and I had leisure to 
examine the huge body." 

This gorilla onset, then, is remarkable as being attended by 
advances, halts, roars, and beatings of the breast, and it is all the more 
striking since it is not the conduct of an individual alone, for this cele- 
brated traveler and strongly nerved hunter saj's, that the others of this 
species, shot by him, behaved in the very same way. 

Paul Du Chain u died at St. Petersburg, April 30, 1903. 

DAVID LIVINGSTONE. 

David Livingstone, missionary and explorer, was born on March 
19, 1S13, at the village of Blantyre Works, in Lanarkshire, Scotland. 
David was the second child of his parents Neil Livingston (for so he 
spelled his name, as did his son for many years) and Agnes Hunter. 
His parents were poor and self-respecting, typical examples of all that 
is best among the humbler families of Scotland. 

At the age of ten years, David left the village school for the neigh- 
boring cotton mill, and b}^ strenuous efforts he qualified himself at the 
age of twenty-three to undertake a college curriculum. He attended 
for two sessions the medical and the Greek classes in Anderson's Col- 
lege, and also a theological class. In September, 1S38, he went up to 
London, and was accepted by the London Missionary Society as a 
candidate. During the next two years he resided mostl}' in London, 
diligently attending medical and science classes, and spending part of 
his time with the Rev. Mr. Cecil, at Ongar in Essex, studying theology 
and learning to preach. He took his medical degree in the Faculty of 
Physicians and Surgeons in Glasgow in November, 1840. 

Livingstone had from the first set his heart on China, and it was a 
great disappointment to him that the Society finally decided to send him 
to Africa. To an exterior in these early years somewhat heavy and 
uncouth, he united a manner which, by universal testimony, was irresist- 



472 



DAVID LIVINGSTONE 



ibly winning, with a fnnd of genuine but simple liumur and fuu that 
would break out on the most unlikely occasions, and in after years 
enabled him to overcome difficulties and mellow refractory chiefs when 
all other methods failed. 

Livingstone sailed from England on December 8, 1S40. From Algoa 
Bay he made direct for Kuruman the mission station, 700 miles north, 




UK. l).\\ 1; ' LI \ !. ■ .. !i,'N. L. 

established by Hamilton and ]Moffat thirt}^ j^ears before, and there he 
arrived on July 31, 1841. The next two 3'ears Livingstone spent in 
traveling about the country to the northward, in search of a suitable 
outpost for settlement. During these two years he had already become 
convinced that the success of the white missionary in a field like Africa 
is not to be reckoned by the tale of doubtful conversions he can send 
home each 3'ear, — that the proper work for such men was that of 



DAVID LIVINGSTONE. 473 

pioneering, opeuiug up and starting new ground, leaving native agents 
to work it out in detail. 

The whole of his subsequent career was a development of this idea. 
He selected the valley of Mabotsa, on one of the sources of the Lim- 
popo river, 200 miles northeast of Kuruman, as his first station. It was 
shortly after his settlement here that he was attacked by a lion which 
crushed his left arm, and nearly put an end to his career. The arm was 
imperfectly set, and it was a source of trouble to him at times through- 
out his life, and was the means of identifyng his body after his death. 
To a house, mainly built by himself at Mabotsa, Livingstone, in 1844, 
brought home his wife, Mar\r Moffat, the daughter of Moffat of Kuru- 
man. Here he labored till 1846, when he removed to Chonuane, 40 
miles further north, the chief place of the Backwain tribe under 

Sechele. 

WHOLE TRIBE FOLLOW THEIR MISSIONARY. 

In 1847, ^^^ again removed to Kolobeug, about 40 miles westward, 
the whole tribe following their missionar\-. With the help of and in the 
company of two English sportsmen, Mr. Oswell and Mr. Murray, he was 
able to undertake a journey of great importance to Lake Ngami, which 
had never yet been seen by a white man. Crossing the Kalahari Desert, 
of which Livingstone gave the first detailed account, thev reached the 
lake on August i, 1849. In April next year, he made an attempt to 
reach Sebituane, who lived 200 miles beyond the lake, this time in com- 
pany with his wife and children, but again got no further than the lake, 
as the children were seized with fever. A year later, April, 185 1, Living- 
stone, again accompanied b}' his family and Mr. Oswell, set out, this 
time with the intention of settling among the Makololo for a period. 

At last he succeeded and reached the Cliobe, a southern tributary 
of the Zambesi, and in the end of June discovered the Zambesi itself 
at the town of Sesheke. Leaving the Chobe on August 13, the party 
reached Capetown in April, 1852. Livingstone may now be said to have 
completed the first period of his career in Africa, the period in which 
the work of the missionary had the greatest prominence. Henceforth 



174 DAVID LIVINGSTONE. 

lie appears more in the character of an explorer, bnt it ninst be remem- 
bered that he regarded himself to the last as a pioneer missionary, whose 
work was to open up the country to others. 

Having, with a sad heart, seen his familj- off to England, Living- 
stone left the Cape on June 8, 1852, and reached Linyanti, the capital 
of the Makololo, on the Chobe, on May 23, 1S53, was received in royal style 
by Sekeletu, and welcomed by all the people. His first object in this 
journey was to seek for some healthy high land in which to plant a 
station. Ascending the Zambesi, he, however, found no place free from 
the destructive tsetse iusect, and therefore resolved to discover a route to 
the interior from either the west or east coast. To accompany Living- 
stone in his hazardous iindertakiug twenty-seven men were selected from 
the various tribes under Sekeletu, partly witli a view to open up a trade 
route between their own country and the coast. 

PUSHING ON INTO THE INTERIOR. 

The start was made from Linyanti on November 11, 1853, and, by 
ascending the Leeba, Lake Dilolo was reached on February 20, 1854. 
On April 4th the Coango was crossed, and on May 31st the town of 
Loanda was entered, much to the joy of the men, — their leader, how- 
ever, being all but dead from fever, semi-starvation, and dysentery. 
Livingstone speaks in the warmest terms of the generosit}' of the Por- 
tuguese merchants and officials. From Loanda Livingstone sent his 
astronomical observations to IMaclear at the Cape, and an account of his 
journey to the Royal Geographical Society, which in May, 1855, awarded 
him its highest honor, its gold medal. Loanda was left on September 
20, 1854, but Livingstone lingered long about the Portuguese settle- 
ments. Making a slight detour to the north to Cabango, the party 
reached Lake Dilolo on June 13th. 

Here Livingstone made a careful study of the watershed of the coun- 
try in what is perhaps the most complicated river system in the world. 
He " now for the first time apprehended the true form of the river sys- 
tems and the continent," and the conclusions he came 1 1 have been 



DAVID LIVINGSTON E. 475 

essentially confirmed by subsequent observations. The return jouruey 
from Lake Dilolo was by the same route as that by which the party 
came. Their reception all along the Barotse valley was an ovation, and 
Linyauti was reached in the beginning of September. 

For Livingstone's purposes the route to the west was unavailable, 
and he decided to follow the Zambesi to its mouth. With a numerous 
following, he left Linyanti on November 8, 1855. A fortnight after- 
wards he made the great discovery with which, in popular imagination, 
his name is more intimately associated than with anything else he did — 
the famous "Victoria" falls of the Zambesi, which after a second exam- 
ination in hi; sub.sequent journey, he concluded to be due to an immense 
fissure or fa'.ilt right across the bed of the river, which was one means 
of draining off the waters of the great lake that he supposed must have 
at one 'crAie occupied the centre of the continent. 

REMARKABLE TROPICAL JOURNEY. 

He had already formed a true idea of the configuration of the conti- 
nent as a great hollow or basin-.shaped plateau, surrounded by a ring of 
mountains. Lixingstone reached the Portuguese settlement of Tette on 
March 2, 1856, in a verj^ emaciated condition, and after six weeks, left 
his men well cared for, and proceeded to Kilimane, where he arrived on 
Ma}' 20, thus having completed in two years and six months one of the most 
remarkable and fruitful ionrneys on record. The results in geograph}^ 
and in natural science in all its departments were abundant and accurate ; 
his observations necessitated a reconstruction of the map of Central 
Africa. Men of the highest eminence in all departments of science tes- 
tified to the high value of Livingstone's work. 

In later years, it is true, the Portuguese, embittered by his unsparing 
denunciations of their traffic in slaves, attempted to depreciate his work, 
and to maintain that much of it had already been done by Portuguese 
explorers. When Livingstone began his work in Africa it was virtually 
a blank from Kuruman to Timbuctoo, and nothing but envy or igno- 
rance can throw any doubt on the originality of his discoveries. 



476 DAVin LIVINGSTONE. 

On December 12, he arrived in England, after an absence of sixteen 
years, and met everywhere with the welcome of a hero. He told his 
story in his " Missionary Travels and Researches in Sonth Africa," with 
straightforward simplicit}', and with no effort after literary style, and no 
apparent consciousness that he had done anything extraordinary. Its 
publication brought what he would have considered a competency had 
he felt himself at liberty to settle down for life. In 1S58 he severed his 
connection with the London Missionary Society, with whom, however, 
he always remained on the best of terms, and in February, 1858, he 
accepted the appointment of '' Her Majesty's consul at Kilimane for the 
eastern coast and the independent districts in the interior, and com- 
mander of an expedition for exploring Eastern and Central Africa." 

GREAT ZAMBESI EXPEDITION. 

The Zambesi expedition, of which Livingstone thus became com- 
mander, sailed from Liverpool in the government ship Pearl, on 
March 10, 1858, and reached the mouth of the Zambesi on May 14, and 
the party ascended the river from the Kongone mouth in a steam launch, 
the Ma-Robert, reaching Tette on September 8. The remainder of 
the year was spent in examining the river above Tette, and especially 
the Kebrabasa rapids. Most of the 3'ear 1859 was spent in the explora- 
tion of the river Shire and Lake Nyassa, which was discovered in Sep- 
tember ; and much of the year i860 was spent b}- Livingstone in fulfill- 
ing his promise to take such of the Makalolo home as cared to go. In 
January of next 5'^ear arrived Bishop Mackenzie and a party of mission- 
aries sent out by the Universities Mission to establish a station on the 
upper Shire. 

After exploring the river Rovuma for 30 miles in his new vessel, the 
Pioneer, Livingstone and the missionaries proceeded up the Shire to 
Chibisa's ; thei-e they found the slave trade rampant, desolating the 
countrv and paralyzing all effort. On July 15, Livingstone, accompanied 
b}' several native carriers, started to show the bishop the country. 
Several bands of slaves whom they met were liberated, and after seeing 



DAVID LIVINGSTONE, 



r, 



the mission ary party settled in the liiglilands of Magomero to the south 
of Lake Shinva, Livingstone spent from August to November in explor- 
ing Lake Nyassa. While the boat sailed up the west side of the lake 
tc near the nortli end, the explorer marched aloiiu- the '^hnre. He returned 



f 



mi'i'^'ti 




DR. LIVINGSTONE AT WORK ON HIS JOURNAL. 
more resolved thau ever to do his utmost to rouse the civilized world to 
put dowu the desolating slave trade. 

On January 30, 1862, at the Zambesi mouth, Livingstone welcomed 
his wife and the ladies of the mission, with whom were the sections of 
the Lady Nyassa, a river steamer which Livingstone had had built at 
his own expense, absorbing most of the profits of his book, and for which 
he never got an}' allowance. When the mission ladies reached the mouth 
of the Ruo tributary of the Shire, they were stunned to hear of the death 
of the bishop and of Mr. Burrup. This was a sad blow to Livingstone, 



478 DAVID LIVINGSTONE. 

seeming to have rendered his efforts to establish a mission futile. A still 
greater loss to him was tliat of his wife at Shupanga, on April 27, 1862. 
The Lady Nyassa was taken to the Rovunia. Up this river 
Livingstone managed to steam 156 miles, but further progress was 
arrested l:iv rocks. Returning to the Zambesi in the beginning of 1863, 
he found that the desolation caused by the slave trade was more horrible 
aud widespread than ever. It was clear that the Portuguese officials were 
themselves at the bottom of the traffic. Kirk and Charles Livingstone 
being compelled to return to England on account of tlieir health, the doc- 
tor resolved once more to visit the lake, and proceeded some distance up 
the west side and then northwest as far as the Avatershed ihat separates 
the Loangwa from the rivers that run into the lake. 

BACK AGAIN IN ENGLAND. 

Meanwhile a letter was received from Earl Russell recalling the 
expedition by the end of the year. In the end of April, 1864, Living- 
stone reached Zanzibar in the Lady NA'assa, and on the 30th he set 
out with nine natives and four Europeans for Bombay, which was reached 
after an adventuron.'; voyage of a month, and on July 23 Livingstone 
arrived in England. He was naturally disappointed wdtli the results of 
this expedition, all us leading objects being thwarted through no blame 
of his. For the unfortunate disagreements wliicli occiirred, and for 
which he was blamed iu some quarters, he must l:e held acquitted, as he 
was b}' the authorities at home ; though it is not necessary to maintain 
that Livingstone was exempt from the trying effects on the temper of 
African fever, or from the intolerance of lukewarmness which belongs 
to all exceptionally strong natures. 

Still the results at the time, and especially those of the future, 
were great. The geographical results, though not in extent to be com- 
pared to those of his first and his final expeditions, were of high import- 
ance, as were those in various departments of science. Details will be 
found in his "NaiTative of an Expedition to the Zambesi and its Trib- 
utaries," published in i.'^65. 



DAVID LIVINGSTONE. 479 

By Murchison and his other staunch friends Livingstone was as 
warmly welcomed as ever. When Murchison proposed to him that he 
should go out again, although he seems to have had a desire to spend 
the remainder of his days at home, the prospect was too tempting to be 
rejected. He was appointed consul to Central Africa withont a salary, 
and Government contributed only $2,500 to the expedition. The chief 
help came from private friends. During the latter part of the expedition 
Government granted him $5,000, but that, when he learned of it, was devoted 
to his great undertaking. The Geographical Society contributed $2,500. 
The two main objedts of the expedition were the suppression of slavery 
by means of civilizing influences, and the ascertainment of the watershed 
in the region between Nj'assa and Tanganjaka. 

SEARCHING FOR THE SOURCES OF THE NILE. 

At first Livingstone thought the Nile problem had been all but 
solved b}' Speke, Baker, and Burton, biit the idea grew upon him tliat 
the Nile sources must be sought farther south, and his last journey 
became, in the end, a forlorn hope in search of the " fountains " of Herod- 
otus. Leaving England in the middle of August, 1865, via Bombay, 
Livingstone arrived at Zanzibar on January 28, 1866. He was landed 
at the mouth of the Rovuma on March 22, and started for the interior 
on April 4. His company consisted of thirteen Sepoys, ten Johanna 
men, nine African boys from Nassick school, Bombay, and four boys 
from the Shire region, besides camels, buffaloes, mules and donkeys. 
This imposing outfit soon melted away to four or five boys. 

Rounding the south end of Lake Nyassa, Livingstone struck in a 
north-northwest direction for the south end of Lake Tanganyika, over 
country much of which had not previously been explored. The Loangwa 
was crossed on December 15, and on Christmas day Livingstone lost his 
four goats, a loss which he felt very keenly, and the medicine chest was 
stolen in January, 1868. Fever came upon him, and for a time was his 
almost constant companion ; this, with the fearful dysentery and dreadful 
ulcers and other ailniL-nts which subsequently attacked him, and which 



4S() 



DAVID livingstonf:. 



he had no medicine to counteract, no doubt told fatally on even his iron 
frame. The Chambeze was crossed (m January 28, and the soiith end of 
Tanganyika reached Alarch 31. 

Here, much to his vexation, he got into the compan}- of Arab slave 
dealers, by whom his movements were hampered ; but he succeeded in 
reaching Lake Moero. After visiting Lake Mofwa and the Lualaba, 






STANLEY FINDING LIVINGSTONE. 

wliich he believed was the upper part of the Nile, he, on July 18, discov- 
ered Lake Bangweolo. Proceeding up the west coast of Tanganyika, he 
reached Ujiji on March 14, iS6g, "a ruckle of bones." Supplies had 
been forwarded to him at Ujiji, but had been knavishly made awaj' with 
by those to whose care they had been entrusted. 

Livingstone recrossed Tanganyika in July, and through the country' 
of the Maujniema he tried in vain, for a whole year, to reach and cross 



DAVID LIVINGSTONE. 481 

tlie Lualaba, baffled partly by the natives, partly by the slave hunters, 
and partly by his long illnesses. It was, indeed, not till March 29, 
1871, that he succeeded in reaching the Lualaba, at the town of Nyangwe, 
where he stayed four months, vainly trying to get a canoe to take him 
across. It was here that a party of Arab slavers, without warning or 
provocation, assembled one day when the market was busiest and com- 
menced shooting down the poor women, hundreds being killed or 
drowned in trying to escape from the white savages. 

WANTED TO PISTOL THE MURDERERS. 

Livingstone had "the impression that he was in hell," but was help- 
less, though his " first impulse was to pistol the murderers." The 
account of this scene which he sent home roused indignation in Eng- 
land to such a degree as to lead to determined, and to a considerable 
extent successful, efforts to get the sultan of Zanzibar to suppress the 
trade. In sickened disgust the weary traveler made his way back to 
Ujiji, which he reached on October 13. Five days after his arrival in 
Ujiji he was cheered and inspired with new life, and completely set up 
again, as he said, by the timely arrival of Mr. H. M. Stanley, the richly 
laden almoner of Mr. Gordon Bennett, of the New York Herald. Mr. 
Stanley's residence with Livingstone was almost the only bright episode 
of these last sad years. 

With Stanley, Livingtone explored the north end of Tanganyika, 
and proved conclusively that the Lnsize runs into and not out of it. In 
the end of the year the two started eastward for Unyanyembe, where 
Stanley provided Livingstone with an ample supply of goods, and bade 
him farewell. Stanley left on March 15, 1872, and after Livingstone 
had waited wearily at Unyanyembe for five months, a troop of fifty-seven 
men and boys arrived, good and faithful fellows on the whole, selected 
by Stanley himself. Thus attended, he started, on August 15, for Lake 
Bangweolo, proceeding along the east side of Tanganyika. His old 
enemy, dysentery, soon found him out. In January, 1S73, the party got 
among the endless spongy jungle on the east of Lake Bangweolo, 



482 



DAVID LIVINGSTONE. 



Livingstone's object being to go round by the south and away west to 
find the " fountains." 

Vexatious delays took place, and the journe}' became one constant 
wade below, under an almost endless pour of rain from above. The doc- 
tor got worse and worse, but no idea of danger seems to have occurred 
to him. At last, in the middle of April, he had unwillingly to submit 




GRAND RECEPTION To DR. LIVINGSTONE. 

to be carried in a rude litter. On April 29, Chitambo's village on the 
Ivulimala, in Ilala, on the south shore of the lake was reached. The last 
entry in the journal is April 27: "Knocked up quite, and remain — 
recover — sent tobuy milch goats. We are on the banks of the Molilamo." 
On April 30, he with difficulty wound up his. watch, and earl}^ on 
the morning of May i, the boys found " the great master," as they called 
him, kneeling by the side of his bed, dead. His faithful men preserved 
the body in the sun as well as they could, and wrapping it carefully up. 



DAVID LIVINGSTONE. 483 

carried it aud all his papers, instruments, aud other things across Africa 
to Zanzibar. It was borne to England with all honor, and on April i8, 
I S74, was deposited in Westminster Abbey, amid tokens of mourning 
and admiration such as England accords only to her greatest sons. 
Government bore all the funeral expenses. His faithfully kept journals 
during these seven years' wanderings were published under the title of 
the "Last Journals of David Livingstone in Central Africa," in 1874, 
edited by his old friend, the Rev. Horace Waller. 

In spite of his sufferings aud the many compulsory delays, Living- 
stone's discoveries during these last years were both extensive and of 
prime importance as leading to a solution of African hydrography. No 
single African explorer has ever done so much for African geography as 
Livingstone during his thirty years' work. His travels covered one- 
third of the continent, extending from the Cape to near the equator, and 
from the Atlantic to the Indian Ocean. 

TREATED AS A SUPERIOR BEING. 

Livingstone was no hurried traveler; he did his journeying 
leisurely, carefully observing and recording all that was worthv of note, 
with rare geographical instinct and the eye of a trained observer, study- 
ing the ways of the people, eating their food, living in their huts, and 
S3'mpathizing with their joys and sorrows. It will be long till the tradi- 
tion of his sojourn dies out among the native tribes, who, almost without 
exception, treated Livingstone as a superior being ; his treatment of 
them was alwaj-s tender, gentle, and gentlemanly. 

But the direct gains to geography and science are perhaps not the 
greatest results of Livingstone's journeys. He conceived, developed and 
carried out to success a noble and many-sided purpose, with an unflinch- 
ing and self-sacrificing energy and courage that entitle him to take rank 
among the great and strong who single-handed have been able materially 
to influence human progress, and the advancement of knowledge. His 
example and his death have acted like an inspiration, filling Africa with 
an army of explorers and missioaaries, and raising in Europe so pow- 



484 DAVID LIVINGSTONE. 

erful a feeliug against the slave trade that it may be considered as having 
received its deathblow. Personally Livingstone was a pure and tender- 
hearted man, full of humanit}' and human sympathy, simple-minded as 
a child. The motto of his life was the advice he gave to some school 
children in Scotland : '' Fear God, and work hard.'' 

HENRY M. STANLEY. 

What Cicero was in eloquence, what Newton was in science, what 
Clay and Webster were in statesmanship, this Stanley was in exploration 
and adventure. For bold enterprise, for daring achievement, for uncon- 
querable perseverance, for singular command of men, for intrepid bravery 
in the face of danger, he stood unrivalled among the heroes of modern 
times ; and this is saying much considering that modern history boasts 
of such names as lyivingstone and Du Chaillu in tropical discoveries and 
Franklin, Kane and Peary in Arctic voyages and perils. 

The Dark Continent yielded to him its mysteries, and when it 
shall be changed b}^ the onward march of civilization, the eulogies pro- 
nounced upon him will be even more eloquent, and a large share of the 
credit of redeeming the uncivilized wastes of Africa will be freely accorded 
to him. 

Like many men who have distinguished themselves in every field of 
enterprise and discovery, Stanley came from very humble life, and b}' 
force of native genius, resolute will and self-sacrificing devotion to his 
work, gained the foremost rank among the noble band of explorers whose 
thrilling achievements have an interest surpassing that of the most mar- 
velous tales of fiction. 

Henry M. vStanle}', although an American b}- residence and educa- 
tion, was born at Denbigh, in Wales, in 1840. The names of his parents 
were Rowland. They belonged to the very poor, yet, like many of the 
peasantry in old countries, the}^ possessed some sterling qualities of mind 
and heart and character. These were reproduced in their son, who had 
risen far above tke surroundings of his childhood, and had become cele- 
brated by achievements which never could have been predicted from the 



HP:NRY M. STANLEY. 



4S5 



circumstances of his early life. As it was not possible for him to be 
cared for and supported at home, at the early age of chree years he was 
placed in the almshouse at St. Asaph. Here it war- expe<:^ed he would 




III \K\ M SI \ML\ 

receive the care and training, both meagre indeed, which such an insti 
tution was able to furnish. 

Stanley remained at the almshouse until he was thirteen years old.. 
It seems probable that there is just here a space of several years which 
is not accounted for, since the next we hear of him he was a teacher at 
Mold, in Flintshire, endeavoring by this occupation to provide himself 



4Sr, HENRY M. STANLEY. 

with the means of taking a thorongh course of study and completing his 
education. It appears, however, that he remained at Mold only one year. 
By this time the restless spirit of the youth had begun to show itself, and 
lie gave .signs that his life would be one of adventure. Having shipped 
at Liverpool as a cabin-boy on a vessel that was bound for New Orleans, 
he thought he would try the New World and learn what fortune might 
await him there. His youthful mind had been awakened by glowing 
accounts of the open iields on this side of the Atlantic and the larger 
opportunities which awaited industrious and enterprising young men. 

THOROUGHLY HONEST AND COMPETENT. 

Having arrived at New Orleans, he soon obtained employment with 
a merchant named Stanley. This man was attracted by the frank, open- 
hearted manner of the boy, and not only received him into his famil}-, 
but .soon adopted him as his own. His friend and benefactor soon learned 
that his confidence had not been misplaced ; that the impulsive Welsh 
boy was capable of great thiugs ; that he was honest and competent ; and 
although at that time no prediction could have been made of the wonder- 
ful career which lay before him, yet, even then, it could safely have been 
said that in some capacity or other he was likely to become distinguished 
above ordinary men. 

Stanley's benefactor died intestate, or at least none of his property 
fell to his adopted son. B\' the sudden bereavement which had over- 
taken him he was left alone in the world and brought face to face with 
fhe startling fact that* he was to be the architect of his own fortune ; that 
he was to find his surest helper in himself; that he could accomplish in 
life just what his own capacity and push and genius would enable him 
to bring to pass. In his case, as in that of others, it is interesting to 
trace the chain of circumstances which led him on to tlie great under- 
.takings which have since startled the world. 

He was seized with a strong desire to visit the Pacific coast. It is 
not worth while here to recount the adventures and hardships which he 
underwent in carr\-ing out his cherished wish to acquaint himself with 



HENRY M. STANLEY. 487 

the western part of our country ; the old saying that "where there is a 
will there is a way" was fully illustrated in this instance. For a time 
he roamed over different parts of California ; gazed upon the romantic 
scenes wliich that country affords ; made the acquaintance of miners as 
the}- sat around their camp-fires ; listened to the tales of their exploits; 
wondered at the magnificent products of nature, the lofty trees of the 
Sierras and the sublime scenery of the Yosemite Vallej', and became 
familiar with the character of the bold men who were attracted to this 
region by the fascinating tales related of the discovery of gold. 

Returuing from California, it was but natural that, as he had previ- 
ously resided in the South, he should identify himself with the confed- 
erate arm}'. To one like him there was something captivating about 
the life of a soldier ; he was not in the habit of turning back from the 
face of danger. His life hitherto had prepared him for just those 
exploits which are connected with bold military achievements. And 
although his connection with the confederate army was brief, it was 
evident that he had the material in him for a good soldier ; in fact, it was 
while carrying out one of his adventurous projects that he was captured 
by the Union troops and was made prisoner of war. 

A PRISONER OF WAR. 

He Avas confined on board the iron-clad Ticonderoga, and here again 
his manly bearing and frank, genial manner won him friends. The com- 
mander of the vessel was willing to release him on condition that he 
should join the United States navy. This he consented to do, although 
there was not much about the life of a sailor that attracted him. By 
this voluntary act he separated himself from the confederate army, and 
became an ally of the Federal forces. He remained, doing such service as 
was required of him, until the close of the war. Suddenly his occupa- 
tion was gone, and again he seemed to be thrown upon the world. This 
fact had no discouragements for him ; he took it as a matter of course. 
It was not in the nature of things that so bright and spirited a }'oung 
man should long remain idle. Having had a taste of the excitement 



488 HKNRY M. STANLEY. 

of military campaigns, lie conceived the bold project of crossing- the 
Atlantic, and if opportunity offered, continuing his military career. 

There was trouble in Turkey at this time on account of the upris- 
ing of the Cretans, who, having borne their oppression until endurance 
ceased to be a virtue, resolved to throw off the yoke under which they 
had suffered. It was but natural that Stanley should feel sjanpathj' for 
an}' tribe or nation struggling for independence, and at once he resolved 
to ally himself with the Cretans and take again the chances of war. 

CAPTURED BY TURKISH BRIGANDS. 

Stanley soon met with an adventure which shows the dangers 
through which he passed and the kind of people he encountered. A 
part}' of Turkish brigands made an attack upon him and robbed him of 
all his money and extra clothing. This is not an unusual occiirrence 
in many parts of the East, where travelers run continuous risks and 
are constanth- exposed to the marauding disposition of reckless robbers 
and brigands. At this time Mr. Morris was our United States Minister 
at Constantinople, and the case was presented to him ; he immediatel}' 
interested himself in behalf of Stanley and brought the matter to the 
attention of the Turkish officials. Mr. Morris was extremely helpful 
to his fellow American, and having loaned him whatever was needful, 
he continued his wanderings. It will be understood that during this 
time letters were forwarded to the New York Herald, containing graphic 
descriptions of eastern life and manners. Having accomplished what 
he desired in this direction, Stanley set his face toward England and 
once again arrived in the land of his birth, where the scenes of his early 
boyhood were laid. 

It is one of the characteristics of a noble nature that it does not 
forget its early struggles and experiences. The remembrance of povert}' 
has no pain for the man who has risen above it and made himself the 
master of circumstances. It is a tribute to Mr. Stanley's worth that he 
did not forget the old almshouse, where his early days were spent. One 
of the first things he did after arriving in England was to visit this very 



HENRY M. STANLEY. 4S9 

place, there recalling scenes tlirougli which he had passed years before. 
All accounts agree that this visit was very interesting ; it was so to 
the one who was making it and also to those who were receiving it. The 
children whom Stanley knew as inmates of this place had grown up and 
most of them had gone out into the world, but " the poor ye have always 
with you," and there were other little ones, with wan faces, whose sad 
life appealed to the heart of the great traveler. 

Stanley resolved to give these little people a right good dinner, and 
we may be sure the intention was received with as much enthusiasm on 
the part of those who were to partake of the dinner as it was formed on 
the part of the benefactor who delighted the little ones. 

AGAIN TRAVELING IN EUROPE. 

The next year, iS68, found Stanley again in the United States, not 
long to remain, however. A civil war was raging at this time in Spain. 
Very soon we find Stanley again in Europe actually taking his position 
upon the battlefields to be a spectator of the conflicts, then relating with 
minuteness what had taken place, and giving a graphic description of the 
scenes which he had witnessed. His letters at this time gave a very 
accurate idea of Spanish affairs. He not only saw the events, biit he saw 
the forces which had produced them. For a long time there had been 
political strife in Spain ; the position of the contending parties, the ideas 
that were clamoring for the ascendent, all this was given as with a photo- 
graphic lens by the brilliant correspondent, and was made known to the 
world at large. The same promptness and energy which had previously 
distinguished him came out vividly in his life in Spain. Just here we 
have one of the most striking chapters in the career of the great explorer. 

Livingstone had long been absent and the curiosity which was awak- 
ened concerning his fate amounted even to anxiety. He had many per- 
sonal friends in England and Scotland who had taken great interest in 
his travels, and who were eager now to obtain some information concern- 
ing him. The probabilities of his fate were freely discussed in news- 
papers and journals, and among many the opinion prevailed that the 



490 HENRY M. STANLEY. 

great discoverer would never return to his native land alive. The ques- 
tion, "What has become of Livingstone?" was agitating both hemispheres; 
a singular instance of the interest which, by force of circumstances, will 
sometimes gather around a single great character. 

James Gordon Bennett was just the one to solve the all-perplexing 
question. Was Livingstone alive ? If alive, in what part of Africa was he 
located ? Or was lie dead? Could anv intelligence of him be obtained? 
Where was the bold spirit who would venture out into that wild 
and threatening region and answer the questions which were so freely 
raised concerning this one man? It was believed that if the great ex- 
plorer was alive, his trail could be followed, and, altliough it would cost 
an almost superhuman effort, he could be found. To find him would be 
sufficient glor}^ for any one man, and the journal that should record such 
an achievement as this would stand in the front rank of tlie great news- 
papers of America and England. 

THE TWO GREAT EXPLORERS MEET. 

The account given b}- Stanley himself of the commission received 
from Mr. Bennett is somewhat amusing. It is as follows : On the six- 
teenth da^- of October, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred 
and sixty-nine, I was in Madrid, fresh from the carnage at Valencia. At 
lo A. M. I received a telegram. It read, "Come to Paris on important 
business." The telegram was from Mr. James Gordon Bennett, Jr., the 
young manager of the New York Herald. 

Down came my pictures from the walls of my apartments on the 
second floor; into my trunks went my books and souvenirs, ni}- clothes 
were hastily collected, some half washed, some from the clothes-line half 
dr}-, and after a couple of hours hastv hard work ni}' portmanteaus were 
strapped up and labelled "Paris." 

At 3 P. M. I was on my way, and being obliged to stop at Bayonne 
a few hours, did not arrive at Paris until the following night. I went 
straight to the "Grand Hotel," and knocked at the door of Mr. Bennett's 
room. 



IIKNRY M. STANLEY. 4«jl 

"Come in," I heard a voice say. 

Entering, I found Mr. Bennett in bed. 

"Who are you ?" he asked. 

"My name is Stanley," I answered. 

"Ah. yes ! sit down ; I have important business on hand for you." 

After throwing over his shoulders his robe-de chanibre, Mr. Bennett 
asked, "Where do you think Livingstone is?" 

"I really do not know, sir." 

"Do you think he is alive ?" 

"He may be, and he may not," I answered. 

"Well, I think he is alive, and that he can be found, and I am going 
to send yoii to find him." 

"What!" said I, "do you really think I can find Dr. Livingstone? 
Do you mean me to go to Central Africa?" 

MUST FIND THE LOST LIVINGSTONE. 

"Yes, I mean that you shall go, aud find him wherever you may hear 
that he is, and to get what news 3-011 can of him, and perhaps" — deliver- 
ing himself thoughtfully and deliberateh' — "the old man mav be in 
want: — take enough with you to help him should he require it. Of 
course you will act according to j^our own plans, and do what you think 
best — but find Livingstone !" 

Said I, wondering at the cool order of sending one to Central Africa 
to search for a man whom I, in common with almost all other men, be- 
lieved to be dead, "Have you considered seriously the great expense you 
are likely to incur on account of this little journey ?" 

" Well, I will tell you what you will do. Draw a thousand pounds 
($5,000) now, and when you have gone through that, draw another thou- 
sand, aud when that is spent draw another thousand, and when 3'ou have 
finished that, draw another thousand, aud so on ; but. Find Livingstone." 

Surprised, but not confused at the order — for I knew that Mr. Ben- 
nett when once he had made up his mind was not easily drawn aside 
from his purpose — I yet thought, seeing it was such a gigantic scheme, 



4'.)2 



HENRY M. STANLEY. 



that he had not quite considered in his own mind the pros and cons of 
the case. 

" Probably you will hear that Livingstone is on his way to Zanzibar ; 
but if not, go into the interior and find him. If alive, get what news of 
his discoveries you can ; and if you find be is dead, bring all possible 




NATIVKS COX\'EYING BOATS 0\'ERLAXD. 
proofs of his being dead. That is all. Good night, and God be with 
you." 

" Good night, sir," I said ; " what it is in the power of human nature 
to do I will do ; and on such an errand as I go upon God will be 
with me." 

The foregoing is Mr. Stanley's interesting account of the manner in 
which he received one of the most important and diflEcult commissions 
ever given to mortal man. The whole stor}^ shows the bold, quick, im- 



HENRY M. STANLEY. 



493 



pulsive nature of men who move the world. To thiuk, is to decide ; to 
decide, is to act ; to act, is to achieve. 

In due time he arrived in Africa. Having started from Zanzibar 
with an expedition, the formation of which gave him an opportunity to 
show his perseverance and tact, he began his long search. DiflBculties 
that would have appalled other men at the outset were as nothing to 
him : obstacles were cast aside as by a faith that moves mountains into 



^W^ 




STANLEY SHOUTING Hll'PuFUl AMI. 

the sea. Threatening dangers did not turn him from his lofty purpose. 
On he went, across plains, down through valleys, through tangled jun- 
gles, over almost impassable rivers, displaying everywhere and always 
the most wonderful heroism and endurance, until the world was startled 
at his discovery and will evermore applaud his magnificent achievements. 
No one who has never explored the wilds of Africa can understand 
the nature of the undertaking which Stanley had before him. In our 



491 HENRY M. STANLEY. 

land we can travel into almost ever section by railways, by stage coaches 
or by steamboats. None of these facilities for traveling were to be found 
in Africa, at least in that part of it that Stanley was to visit. Some of 
these means of transit could be created, but they were not in existence, 
and to the explorer was left the double work not merely of conducting 
the expedition, but also of preparing the way for it. 

Thrilling tales have been told of the dangers attending all journeys 
in the Dark Continent. Every book which has been written is alive with 
these tales of adventure. No work has ever been published on Africa 
which does not read more like a romance than reality. We look upon 
the map, we see the location of the various provinces, we trace the great 
rivers winding their way towards the ocean, and, not understanding the 
true character of the country, it may seem to us to be a simple thing to 
pass from one point to another. It is much easier to travel by map than 
in any other way. 

When Livingstone went to Africa he could go but a little wa}' inland 
from the coast without finding his progress barred. While it was left to 
Stanley to follow in his track, there was sometimes a difficulty in learning 
the path which Livingstone had taken, and it was also very difficult for 
a man unused to African exploration to complete so long a journej' 
without any previous experience. These things rendered Stanley's final 
success all the more wonderful, and it is not surprising that all readers 
become intensely interested in the story of the man and his exploits. He 
not only found Livingstone, but crossed the Dark Continent from sea 
to sea. 

In 1890 he returned to London and met with a reception almost 
royal in its splendor. He was feasted and feted everywhere ; the Royal 
Geographical Society gave him a gold medal, and Oxford, Cambridge 
and Edinburgh conferred on him honorary degrees. His marriage in 
Westminster Abbey to Miss Dorothy Tennant, and his subsequent elec- 
tion to Parliament gave a fitting climax to his brilliant career. 



SIR JOHN FRANKLIN. 

No record of human acliievemeut is more daring and marvelcus 
thai; that of the bold Arctic navigators who, from time to time, have 
explored this unknown world of icy desolation. In the year 1818, two 
vessels were fitted out by th.e British government to proceed toward 
the North Pole. Captain Sir John Ross and Lieutenant Parry were 
appointed commanders. No former expedition had been fitted out on so 
extensive a scale, or so completely equipped in every respect as this one. 
The circumstance which stimulated the sending out of these vessels was 
the open character of the bays and seas in those regions, very large 
quantities of the polar ice having floated down into the Atlantic for the 
previous three years. This expedition had instructions to discover th'' 
northwest passage. 

TRYING TO REACH THE NORTH POLE. 

Another, under Captain Beechej' and Lieutenant Franklin, after 
ward Sir John Franklin, was to penetrate to the North Pole. The 
objects of the latter expedition were entirely scientific. It passed north 
between Greenland and Spitzbergen, but did not go much further. 
Captain Ross sailed about sixty miles up Lancaster Sound, and 
returned with the report that it was a bay, through which there was 
no outlet to the ocean beyond. From York Factory an overland expedi- 
tion under Lieutenant Franklin was sent out with instructions to explore 
the north coast of America, from the mouth of the Coppermine river 
eastward. He proceeded five hundred and fifty miles east of the Cop- 
permine to Point Turn-again and then, having suffered great hardships, 
returned to York Factory without accomplishing the object. 

Franklin, in descending the Coppermine river, was accompanied 
by a set of ofiicers and men as heroic as ever trod a deck ; among the 
former, were Dr. Richardson, Lieutenant Back and Lieutenant Hood; 
and among the latter, a faithful seaman named Hepburn. The Copper- 
mine I'iver had never been thoroughly explored, and the enterprise was 
one of great danger. Ascending the Hayes river on their inland route 
to the Coppermine, they accomplished seven hundred miles of river 

495 



49() 



SIR JOHN FRANKLIN. 



journey, over rapids and falls and obstacles and difficulties innumerable, 
from which ordinary men would liave turned back. 

The setting in of the ice compelled them to relinquish their labors 
in that direction for the present. Franklin, however, was not idle— it 

was not in the na- 



ture of the man to 
be so — and there- 
fore he, Back and 
V Hepburn started off, 
i^ in Januar}-, west- 
, -^ ward, working- up 
^y'l v^ eight hundred and 
^ I J^ fift}' miles, until in 
March they reached 
Fort Chipewyan, 
where many import- 
ant observations 
were made. In July, 
he was joined by 
Richardson and 
Hood, and hoped to 
winter that year at 
the mouth of the 
Coppermine. A 
large party was 
made up, consist- 
ing of Franklin and 
his friends, seven- 
teen French-Canadian travelers, three interpreters, and a considerable 
number of Indians who were to act as guides and hunters under the 
leadership of one Akaitcho. The start was all that could be desired, 
game plentiful, and ever3'thing promised well. 

But as they advanced to the north, a change came over the spirit of 




SIR JOHN FRAXKLIX. 



SIR JOHN FRANKLIN. 4<)7 

their dream ; food grew scarce, the difficulty of transit increased ; and at 
last Akaitcho declared that to advance further meant for the whole 
party to perish miserably. Franklin persisted, however, and would have 
braved all the prophesied risks, till Akaitcho said : " I will send some 
of my young men with you if you persist in going forward, but from the 
miment they set foot in your canoes, T and my relatives shall jnourn 




LIEUTENANT BACK'S START— A JOURNEY OF FIVE HUNDRED MILES FOR FOOD. 

for them as dead." Discretion being the better part of valor, Franklin 
reluctantly determined to settle in winter quarters and continue the ex- 
ploration in the summer. The place chosen for wintering was at Fort 
Enterprise, near the head of the Coppermine. 

During the winter, food grew scarcer and scarcer, until at last 
starvation was threatened. In addition to their own party, the Indians 
had to be provided for, and this greatly impoverished their resources. 

32 



498 



SIR lOHN FRANKLIN. 



The Indians kuew this, aud. with a generosity' which Cliristian men 
might sometimes imitate, gave their own food to the strangers who 
seemed more to need it. "We are nsed to starvation, 3^011 are not ; " 
they said. B3^-and-by a time came when the sitnation was gloomy in 
the extreme ; ammunition, and other articles indispensable to the pro- 
gress of the expedition, and food were fast failing. What was to bo 




RETURN WITH SUPPLIES WHEN DESPERATELY NEEDED. 

done? There was only one course open, and that was to journey on 
foot a distance of over five hundred miles to Fort Chipew\'an, in the 
depth of an Arctic winter, for supplies. 

A volunteer was soon found. L/ieutenant Back was not a man to 
allow his comrades to perish while he had strength and vigor to sa\e 
them, and he undertook to perform the -journey aud obtain the needful 
supplies. Day after day, he and his companions toiled ou over ice and 



SIR JOHN FRANKLIN. 499 

snow ; and niglit after night, braved the inclemency of the weather by 
camping out of doors. With snow-shoes galling their feet and ankles 
till they bled profusely ; with only sufficient food to keep them from 
starving, and, therefore, rendering them all the more susceptible to 
cold ; with weather unusual in the severe region for its severity, on they 
went, until, at last, they reached the station, procured four sledges, 
laden to the full with needful things, and the promise of more to follow, 
and then, after a brief rest, they set off again for Fort Enterprise. 

During the journey. Back traveled eleven hundred and four miles, 
and when he rejoined his companions it was to find that his unpre- 
cedented journey was a success in every respect, for they had arrived at 
a stage in their experience when the aid he brought was indispensable. 

FAMOUS GRINNELL EXPEDITION. 

In 1S50, an expedition was sent out by Mr. Henry Grinnell, a mer- 
chant of New York, in search of Sir John Franklin and his companions. 
Mr. Grinnell's expedition consisted of only two small brigs, the Advance, 
of one hundred and forty tons, the Rescue, of only ninety tons. The 
command was given to Lieutenant E. De Haven, a young naval officer, 
who accompanied the United States exploring expedition. Dr. E. K. 
Kane, surgeon and naturalist, was one of the officers. The expedition 
was absent a little more than sixteen months. Off the coast of Labrador 
they met an iceberg making its way toward the tropics. The night was 
very dark, and as the huge voyager had no " light out," the Advance 
could not be censured f :)r running foul. She was puuished, however, by 
the loss of her jib-boom, as she ran against the iceberg. 

When the expedition reached Melville Bay, which, on account of its 
fearful character, is also called the Devil's Nip, the voyagers began to 
witness more of the grandeur and perils of Arctic scenes. Icebergs of 
all dimensions came bearing down from the polar seas. They also 
encountered immense floes, with only narrow channels between, and at 
times their situation was exceedingly perilous. On one occasion, after 
heaving through fields of ice for five cousecutive weeks, two immense 




A PASSAGE BY FRAXKl.IX'.s SlilTS. 



SIR JOHN FRANKLIN. 



501 



floes, between which they were making their way, gradually approached 
each other, and for several hours they expected their vessels would be 
crushed. An immense cake of ice, six or eight feet thick, slid under 
the Rescue, lifting her almost "high and dry," and careening her 
partially upon her beam ends. By means of ice anchors (large iron 
hooks) thev kept her from capsizincr In this position they remained 




BEECHEY HEAD. 

about sixty hours, when, with saws and axes, they succeeded in reliev- 
ing her. The ice now opened a little, and they finally warped through 
into clear water. While they were thus confined, polar bears came 
around them in abundance, greedy for prey, and the seamen indulged a 
little in the perilous sports of the chase. 

The navigators explored the coast at and near Cape Riley, and there 
found in a cove on the shore of Beechey Island, or Beechy Cape, on the 



502 



SIR JOHN FRANKLIN. 



east side of the entrance to Wellington Channel, nnniistakable evidence 
that Sir John Franklin and his companions were there in April, 1S46. 
There they discovered many articles known to belong to the British 
navy, and some that were the property of the Brebns and Terror, the 
ships under the command of Sir John. There la}', bleached to the 
whiteness of the surrounding snow, a piece of canvas, with the name of 




RLLICb OF FRANKLIN'S L\PI DITION 

the Terror marked upon it with indestructible charcoal. It was very 
faint, yet perfectly legible. 

Near it was a guideboardlying flat upon its face, having been pros- 
trated by the wind. It had evidently been used to direct exploring par- 
ties to the vessels, or, rather, to the encampment on shore. The board 
was pine, thirteen inches in length, and six and a half in breadth, and 
nailed to a boarding pike eight feet in length. It is supposed that the 



SIR JOHN FRANKLIN. oJO 

sudden opening of tlie ice caused Sir John to depart hastily, and in so 
doing this pike and its board were left behind. They also found a large 
number of tin canisters, such as are used for packing meats for a sea voy- 
age; an anvil block; remnants of clothing, which evinced, by numerous 
patches and their threadbare character, that they had been worn as long 
as the owners could keep them on ; the remains of an India-rubber 
glove, lined with wool ; some old sacks ; a cask, or tub, partly filled with 
charcoal, and an unfinished rope-mat, which, like other fibrous fabrics, 
was bleached white. 

But the most melancholy traces of the navigators were three graves 
in a little, sheltered cove, each with a board at the head bearing the 
name of the sleeper below. Thes2 inscriptions testify positively when 
Sir John and his companions were there on their fatal voyage. 

EXPEDITIONS SEARCHING FOR FRANKLIN. 

Three expeditions were sent out in 1S48 to search for Franklin, and 
later tliese were followed by several others, under the patronage of the 
British government and Ladv Franklin. Traces of the Frankliu expedi- 
tion were found in 1S50 at Cape Riley and Beechey Island, and articles 
belonging to Sir John Franklin's officers were seen in possession of the 
Esquimaux at Selby Bay, iu 1S54, by Dr. Rae, but authentic information 
concerning (he fate of Franklin was only obtained in 1S59. 

An expediti )n sent out by Lady Franklin under Captain Francis 
McClintock, passed, in 1S57, through Baffin's Bay, Lancaster Souiul, and 
Prince Regent Inlet to Bellot vStrait, whence sledge expeditions were 
made to King William Laud Here, iu 1859, were found relics of Sir 
John Franklin's expedition. At Point Victory was found a tin case 
containing a brief record dated May 2S, 1847, to the effect that the 
expedition had passed the previous winter at Beechey Island, after 
ascending the Wellington Channel, and returning by the west side of 
Cornwallis Island. All the party were then well. 

On the margin was another record, dated April, 1848, to the effect 
that one hundred and five men under Captain Crosier had abandoned the 



504 SIR JOHN FRANKLIN. 

two vessels, that Sir John Franklin had died June ii, 1847, ^^^ ^^^^ 
the total deaths were nine officers and fifteen men. Quantities of clothing 
were found, but no trace of the vessels. It was evident that the whole 
expedition had perished. It seems that Sir John Franklin passed up 
Lancaster Sound, explored Wellington Channel to a point further north 
than was reached by those who were sent out to search for his party, and 
wintered on Beechey Island. 

In the spring and summer of 1846 he either navigated Bellot Strait, 
or more probably pushed through Peel Sound, and finally reached Victoria 
Strait, and thus supplied the only link wanting to complete a chain of 
water communication between the two oceans. Thus Sir John Franklin 
is the discoverer of the Northwestern Passage. 

ELISHA KENT KANE. 

Voyages in the Polar regions of North America began in the first 
part of the seventeenth century, and from that time to this almost all 
the imp(jrtant nations of tlie world have been continually making efforts 
to reach the pole. From the first, the chief objects wei'e to find water- 
ways around both continents connecting the Atlantic and the Pacific 
Oceans. The Northeast passage between Hurope and Asia was success- 
fully made by Russian and Danish expeditions ; while the Northwest 
passage, which was first attempted by Sebastian Cabot and the brothers 
Cortereal, was not actually found until about the year 1S45, in the last 
expedition of Sir John Franklin, who perished before he could make his 
discovery known. 

It was in search of this brave Englishman that the United States 
undertook its first important Polar expedition, in which our greatest 
Arctic explorer, Elisha Kent Kane, made his first journey to the Arctic 
zone. 

The expedition was started by Mr. Henry Grinnell, a wealthy New 
York merchant, after Lady Franklin's appeal to our government to send 
out a search party for her lost husband. Mr. Grinnell took up the enter- 
prise at once. He laid the plans, and offered two vessels, supplies, extra 



ELISHA KENT KANE. 505 

pay to the meu who would volunteer to go, and means for about all the 
other expenses necessary to .carry out the search and to make the expedi- 
tion of scientific value. Then he used his influence to get Congress to 
take charge of it. Volunteer officers were called for from the navy, and 
at last everything was ready and placed in command of Lieutenant De 
Haven. Dr. Kane was one of the under-officers— of no higher rank than 







WW'''' 



DR. F.I.ISHA KENT KANE. 
assi.stant surgeon. He was then a young man of thirty years, wlioselife 
so far had been a continual fight against ill-health. 

Although in the list of officers Dr. Kane started out as nothing more 
than an assistant surgeon in the Advance, when the expedition returned 
he had the honorable record of having been the most active and able man 
in the party. Through all their journey — which began on the 22d of 
May, 1850, and did not end until October of the next year — he was a 



5(tr) ELISHA KKNT KANK. 

zealous worker, ou the -watcli for the object of tlieir search, and wideawake 
to all discoveries of the region through which they had passed. 

He kept a careful account of what was done, what was seen, and all 
that happened in each day, records that were afterward published, and 
made a most valuable and interesting history of the expedition. Several 
times during the jonrney Dr. Kane was very sick, but his great interest 
in all that was to be seen and done seemed to keep him from breaking 
down entirelv, as a man w^th less nerve wonld have done. 

^A^ONDERFUL AND IMPORTANT DISCOVERIES. 

This expedition met some British relief ships in Lancaster Sound 
and accomplished a journey as far north as a point iu Baffin's Bay. They 
discovered many wonderful and important things about these regions that 
were before unknown to science, but they did not succeed in finding more 
than a very few traces of Sir John Franklin — the graves of three of his 
men, and ;i cairn or two and a small number of articles which some of 
them had lost or thrown awa}'. 

This was but small success, but it gavo hopes of more, so, a short 
time after the return, Mr. Grinnell offered the use of the Advance for 
another trip. This was put in charge of Dr. Kane, who had proved him- 
self one of the greatest men of the first expedition, and able to undertake 
much more than the duties of an assistant surgeon, great as they were at 
certain times, and nobly as he filled them. 

In addition to his other work he had formed a plan by which he 
thought the search could be made more succesful than it had been. He 
believed from the observations he had made that Greenland extended even 
farther to the north than the American continent; he also thought that 
it was safer to travel by land than b}' water when it was possible, and that 
b}' such a route the parties could keep themselves supplied with food by 
hunting. 

After his return he spent several mouths in carefully thinking these 
plans out, in laying them before prominent people interested in the search 
for Franklin, and iu lecturing about them and what had been seen iu the 



E LIS HA KENT KANE. 



"07 



first Grinnell expedition. In this way lie aroused a great deal ofeiitlm- 
siasm in the project of another journey. Its chief object was to find the 
Sir John Franklin party, or at least to solve the mystery of their fate — 
for Dr. Kane still believed that some of the number must be living some- 
where among the remote Esquimaux villages. 

Duiing all this time Dr. Kane's health was very bad: :nu1 when evevy- 




KAXK AND \U>. i oMl'AMONS BRAVING THK COLD 



thing was ready he was hardly able to write to Congress about it; but he 
was too courageous to give up, and besides he knew he would be better 
in the colder climate. 

In this journey, as in the first one, Dr. Kane was historian. He has 
told us in his "Arctic Explorations" the full story of the expedition. 
From New York the Advance carried her party directly to Greenland, 



508 



ELISHA KENT KANE. 




SHIPS AND ICEBERGS ARCHED BY THE MARVELOUS AURORA. 

where tlieir first sight of the cold couutry of the north was the "broad 
valleys, deep ravines, mountains and frowning black and desolate cliffs" 
that burst into view from beneath the dense curtain of a lifting: fosf. 



ELISHA KP:NT KANE. 509 

Then, with icebergs in full view around them, like castles in a fairy tale, 
the3^ worked their way along the western coast till they reached Smith's 
Sound. 

Sometimes the commander would spend whole days in the "crow's 
nest " at the top of the mast, looking out for the best course for the ves- 
sel, and keenly watching for all of interest to their search. The magnifi- 
cent views which he saw from this lofty perch are often beautifully 
described in his book. In one place he says : "The midniglit sun came 
out over the northern crest of the great berg, kindling variously-colored 
fires on every part of its surface, and making the ice around us one great 
piece of gem-work, blazing carbuncles and rubies, and molten gold." 

HOW THEY PASSED THE ARCTIC NIGHT. 

After being tossed and crashed about for some time in the gales of 
Smith's Sound, it was found impossible to get the Advance through the 
ice to the shore ; so they left her there, and fitting up ice-sledges, set out 
o;i their search for the lost explorers and also to see if better winter quar- 
ters could be found for the brig. The commander tells us in his book 
how both of these errands were in vain, and how they came back and 
prepared to pass the long cold Arctic night in Rensselaer Harbor. 

Their stores and provisions were carried to a storehouse on Butler's 
Island, and provision depots were also established at intervals further 
north. This work was finished just as the "long, staring day," which 
had clung to them more than two months, was drawing to a close, and 
the dark night was beginning to settle down upon them. It was only at 
mid-day that they could see to read the figures on the thermometer with- 
out a light. The hills seemed like huge masses of blackness, with faint 
patches of light scattered here and there, made by the snow. 

The faithful journal records these days and their doings, relating 
sorrowfully how the dogs fell sick from the darkness and the cold, and 
almost aU of them died in a sort of insanity, ending in lockjaw ; and how 
great the travelers felt this loss when the glimmering light of day told 
them that spring had come, and the time would soon be for them to go on. 



510 



ELISHA KENT KANE. 



The stations wliich they had begun to set np in the fall were 
intended for provision depots, so that when the explorers went out on 
their sledge journeys to search for the Franklin party, they would not 
have to go back to the brig every time they needed supplies. Now, when 
the first ray of light appeared. Dr. Kane sent out a party with a load of 
provisions to establish another depot still further to the north ; but the}- 
were overtaken by a gale and lost their way. Thev would have died 




START OF KANK'S SM'DCF. F.XI'F.DITIi )N. 

if three of the men had not been able to grope their -way back to the 
vessel. Benumbed and exhausted, they stumbled into the brig unable 
to talk. 

But Dr. Kane knew their errand without the aid of words, and hur- 
ried to the rescue of the others, with the strongest men in the boat. 
Guided almost by instinct, he soon found them huddled together and 
barely alive. " We knew you would come," they said ; "we were watch- 
ing for yoii." He and his comrades had had a long march to find them, 



KLISHA KKNT KANK. 511 

and had taken no sleep meanwhile, so they were suffering themselves by 
this time ; but. they did not stop to rest ; it had to be quick work to save 
their comrades' lives. They sewed them up in thick bags of skin, then, 
putting them in the sledges, they started back to the brig. This was a 
journey of most terrible suffering from cold, hunger, and sleeplessness. 
After awhile nearly all the men were overcome with drowsiness and 
grew delirious ; they reeled and stumbled as they walked, and finally one 




THE PERILOUS JOURNEY 

sat down and declared he would sleep before he stirred another step. Dr. 
Kane let him sleep three minutes and then awakened him, and then 
another three minutes and awakened him, till he was quite rested. This 
worked so well that all were allowed a few such short naps before the 
march was taken up again. But in spite of all their efforts, all but three 
— Dr. Kane and two others — gave out before they reached the brig. 

These poor fellows stumbled ou to the last, so delirious that they 
could never remember how they finally got to the vessel. There they 



512 ELISHA KENT KANE. 

were at ouce taken care of and fresh, men were sent ont after tlie fallen 
ones, who were onl}' five miles away. Two of the party that were rescued 
died from the terrible exposure. All the others got well. 

A few more such attempts and perilous searches were made with ill- 
success and great sickness, and another winter came and went. Then as 
the vessel was still so firmly frozen in the ice that it was impossible to 





iliiliil 



VIEW OF SANDERSON'S HOPE, NEAR UPPERNAVIK, BAFFIN BAY. 

get her out. Dr. Kane gave the order to leave her to her fate, and to pre- 
pare for an overland journey to Upernavik, a whaling station on the west 
coast of Greenland. This was thirteen hundred miles away. 

Meanwhile the people at home were watching for news of the expe- 
dition, and when the second winter came 0:1 and Dr. Kane did not return, 
they began to feel anxious, and fitted out a relief expedition to go in search 
of him. It left New York at about the same time the disabled explorers 



KLISriA KENT KANE. 513 

Started on their southward journey, and while it was sailing through the 
open seas of the North Atlantic, Kane and his men were struggling- over 
ice and snow, all other thought lost but that of saving their lives. 

This was the most perilous journey of the whole expedition ; the 
toil and cold were severe enough, but besides these they had continually 
t(j cross gaps in the ice, in which they were drenched with water. When 
ihey reached a large opening and took to their boats — which they had 
carried over the ice — they were almost always in danger of being crushed 
in the floes. But worse than all these trials, was that of hunger. Their 
provisions ran so low that a fortunate shot at a seal was all that saved 
them from starving several times. 

REACH OPEN WATER BEYOND ICE. 

At last they caught glimpses of open water, beyond the ice, and 
began to see signs of human beings ; a row-boat appeared, then a whaler, 
and finally they sighted the safe harbor of Upernavik. Here the rescue 
party found theui, just as they were about to take passage in a Danish 
vessel for the Shetland Islands ; and the heroic little band of the Second 
Grinnell Expedition reached New York on the nth of October, 1855. 

They had not succeeded in linding any of the Franklin party which 
was a great disappointment to Dr. Kane and to all who had taken part in 
the expedition ; but they had made such important discoveries and 
explorations that Congress awarded the gallant commander a gold medal; 
the Royal Geographical Society of London gave him another, and the 
Queen another ; in fact, it is said that probably no explorer and traveler, 
acting in a private capacity as such, has ever received greater tributes 
of respect. 

The results of his expedition comprise the survey and delineation 
of the north coast of Greenland to its termination by a great glacier; the 
survey of this glacier and its extension northward into the new land 
named Washington, and a survey of the American coast. 

Dr. Kane was born in Philadelphia, February 20, 1820. He died at 

Havana, Cuba, February 10, 1857. 
33 



ROBERT E. PEARY. 

The most important Polai" expedition of recent date, and the one 
from which the greatest things were expected, was that under command 
of Lieutenant Robert E. Peary. His great experience in Arctic work, 
his persistence, his fine equipment and his intelligent, well-thought-out 
plans, all gave promise of success in penetrating farther north than any 
of his predecessors, and the possibility, even, of reaching the Pole itself. 
Peary went north on his last trip in 1898. He had been communicated 
with at intervals, the last word from him coming in August, 1901. He 
was expecting then to make a final dash for the Pole early in the spring, 
according to his plan of campaign, and much interest had been felt in 
scientific circles as to the result achieved. 

On July 14, the relief steamer Windward, provided by the Peary 
Exploration Club, newly equipped and heavily provisioned, sailed from 
New York to reach Lieutenant Peary at the appointed rendezvous at 
Cape Sabine and bring him home. Mrs. Peary and the little daughter, 
who was born in Greenland, accompanied the ship. On July 20, the 
Windward took on coal at Sydney, Cape Breton, and sailed to the north. 
On September 18, the Windward reached the same port on its return trip, 
bringing Peary and the two other members of the expedition. Pear}- 
and the others were in good health, but he was only just recovering from 
an accident to one of his legs, which rendered him slightly lame. 

BELIEVES NORTH POLE CAN BE REACHED. 

Peary had to report that he did not discover the North Pole, but 
said that in the last dash, with that object in view, he made important 
discoveries. The most northerly point reached was 84 degrees, 17 min- 
utes to the northwest of Cape Hecla. He still felt certain that the Pole 
could be reached, and furthermore, if he were a man of independent 
means, he would persevere until he succeeded. He thinks it can best 
be reached from Franz Josef Land, which lies north of Russia, or from 
Grant Land, in latitude 83 degrees, if winter quarters are established 
as far north as possible. The mark made by Peary in the frozen patli 



ROBERT E. PEARY. 



515 



to the Pole is higher than any other on the Greenland route. Lock- 
wood, in May, 18S2, reached S3. 24, or about 460 miles from the Pole. 
Peary exceeded this by 53 minutes, about 61 miles. 

Peary reported his operations since August, 1901. He left Erik 
Harbor, in Ellsmere Land, August 29, to establish winter quarters 
furtlier north. All his Eskimos were taken sick, and by November six 




KASER FRANZ-JOSEPH'S LAND, 
adults and one child were dead. More Eskimos were gathered, survivors 
of a tribe which had also been visited by a fatal epidemic. In February 
a large depot of food was established sixty miles north of Cape Sabine, 
and in March Peary started, with eighteen sledges, for Fort Conger, an 
advance party with six sledges having preceded him. A further advance 
was made to Cape Hecla, from where the real advance began. In Peary's 
words : 



516 



ROBERT E. PEARY. 



" April I, started northward over tlie Polar Sea, with Heuson, four 
Eskimos and six sledges. Old floes, covered deep with snow, and inter- 
sected with rubble ridges aud lanes of young ice, were encountered from 
the moment we left the ice foot. The same kind of traveling, except the 
lanes of young ice, as found by the English expedition of 1876. After 
six marches, open leads and floes in motion were encountered. Two 
natives were sent back. 

"As we advanced the floes became smaller, the pressure ridges on a 
grander scale, and the open leads more frequent. Each day's march was 




nil-; KS(il'I.MAL x. 



more perilous, and our general course deflected west b}- the character of 
the ice. Finally, at 84.17 degrees north latitude, northwest of Hecla, 
the polar pack became impracticable, and further efforts to advance were 
given up. New leads aud pressure ridges, with foggy weather, made our 
return, in some respects, more trying than the advance. Hecla was 
reached April 29, and Conger May 3. Leaving Conger May 6, Cape 
Sabine was reached on the 15th. 

"The ice broke up earlier than in 1901, and Payer Harbor was 
blockaded almost continuously. The Windward bored her way through 
the ice and entered the harbor the morning of August 5, and got out 
again the same afternoon with scarcely fifteen minutes to spare before 



ROBERT E. PEARY. 



517 



the harbor was closed by the ice. The summer voyage has been without 
mishap, and Windward, with her new engines, has made as good time 
as the larger and more powerful ships that have beeu going north the 
past ten 3'ears. 

"The year at Payer Harbor was passed comfortably, though an 
anxious strain, caused by the ravages of disease amoug my faithful 
people, was not light. Food was abundant, and our supply of musk ox 
and deer meat continued throughout the year. The northern sledge 
trip in the spring was arduous but uot marked by special exposure) 
suffering or danger more than is necessarily incidental to serious Arctic 




MUSK-OX HUNTING. 

work. Equipment and personnel were satisfactory, and further advance 
was vetoed by insuperable natural conditions." This was Peary's de- 
liberate abandonment of his well-equipped expedition. 

Though he has not yet reached the goal of his ambition, Lieutenant 
Peary has achieved a record as a most indefatigable, earnest and success- 
ful Arctic explorer. His last year was the twelfth consecutive year, and 
the thirteenth in all, some portion of which he spent in the Arctic regions. 
He went to Greenland in 1886, and practically crossed that continent at 
that time. When he went again, in 1891, he wintered on the west coast, 
and in the spring went diagonally over the ice cap to a point on tlie 
northeast coast of Greenland, never before visited. As he was yet on 



518 ROBERT E. PEARY. 

the spot on Jvily 4, 1892, lie named tlie great indentation of the continent 
which he found there, "Independence Bay." 

The next time he visited the Arctic, in 1893, it was to stay two 3'ears. 
Mrs. Peary accompanied him on this occasion, although she returned to 
the United States the following summer. It was only a few weeks after 
her arrival at the site chosen for the winter camp that fii^st year that Mrs 
Peary's only child was born. Peary made trips to the northward from 
Anniversary Lodge, on Whale Sound, in the spring seasons of both 1894 
and 1895. Furious storms and inadequate supplies thwarted his effort on 
the first occasion. On the second, with two companions, he tramped up 
to Independence Bay, on the north shore of Greenland, and came back 
with only one dog and no food as the result of his trip. 

A HUGE METEORITE. 

In 1896, and again in 1897, Peary went north, and returned the 
same season. On the former occasion he brought down some small 
masses of iron, believed to be of meteoric origin, and in 1897 ^^^ brought 
an immense block of the same character, said to contain nearly one hun- 
dred tons of metal. 

Before his next start, in 1898, Peary visited England, where he 
received much attention from geographical and other scientific societies. 
At this time he outlined his plans for the future in public lectures. To 
that trip is due, perhaps, the gift of the ship Windward, then owned 
by Mr. Harmsworth, and afterwards used by Jackson for an expedition to 
Franz Josef Land. 

Peary also received handsome backing from his own fellow country- 
men. A club was organized, composed of twenty-five members, each of 
whom was to contribute $1,000 a year for four years to promote Peary's 
plans. It is under these auspices that his last expedition was equipped 
and maintained. 

Peary left for his last trip in July, 1898. He hoped to be able to 
push the Windward up the west coast of Greenland through Smith Sound 
and Robeson Channel, and establish a winter camp on Sherard Osborn 



ROBERT E. PEARY. 



il9 



Fjord, near the eighty-second parallel of latitude. His intention was, 
when early spring came, to start over the ice pack north of the continent 
with dogs and sledges. But the ice prevented the Windward going more 




PEARY AND PARTY CROSSING A HEAVY IlI- i.v-K. 

than fifty miles above Cape Sabine, and the latter stayed there from 
August 1 8, 189S, to August 2, 1S99. All during the autumn, winter and 
spring .sledge parties went out in various directions. Much geographical 
data, for perfection of maps, was secured, and a great deal of game shot. 



520 ROBERT E. PEARY. 

The most important of all these ventures was a journey in sledges 
from the ship up to Fort Conger, on Lady Franklin Bay. This is on the 
west side of Robeson Channel, and, though visited repeatedly since that 
time (December, 1898) it had then been deserted ever since Greely's 
party left it in 1883. While on the way Peary was overtaken by a severe 
storm and one of his feet was frost-bitten. When lie got back to his ship 
again it was necessary to have several toes amputated. This experience 
unfitted him for any attempt to reach the Pole, and none was made. 
The Peary Club sent the Diana up in 1899 with food and mail, and she 
returned two or three months later, preceded by the Windward. 

REACHED MOST NORTHERN POINT. 

Starting from Fort Conger with his faithful negro servant, Henson, 
and five Eskimos on April 15, 1900, Peary crossed Robeson Channel on 
the ice to Greenland. He pursued the plan of sending back his Eskimos 
with their sleds as fast as the provisions loaded upon the latter were 
exhausted, so that early in May he had with him onh?^ one strong team, 
one Eskimo and Henson. Skirting the north coast, Pear}'^ reached the 
cairn left by Lockwood in 1882 — then the furthest north reached by 
man — on May 13, 1900. He rounded the northernmost point of Green- 
land, in latitude 83.39, a few da3's later. This, by the way, is the 
northerumost land yet trod by human feet. 

Peary here pushed out upon the ice, in hope of reaching the Pole. 
Eleven miles further north, in latitude 83.50, he found so wide a streak 
of water that he could not cross. That settled his fate for 1900. Turn- 
ing back to the land, he followed the coast on eastward, 160 miles beyond 
Lockwood's " furthest," and within a degree of Independence Ba)^ 
visited by him seven or eight years before. Fort Conger was reached 
in safety on July loth, almost three months from the time of his de- 
pai-ture. 

To open vip communication with Peary, in 1900, the Windward was 
dispatched northward. Mrs. Peary went with the ship. It had been 
planned to have the vessel return before cold weather, but the season was 



ROBERT E. PEARY. 521 

not favorable. On the way up the Windward stopped first at Etah, and 
then pushed on to Cape Sabine, where Peary had already arrived. The 
ship remained there, or, rather, in Payer Harbor, close by — from August 
15, until July, 1901. 

Satisfied by the experience of a previous year that the ice pack 
north of Greenland was not solid enough to encourage a fresh ventiire, 
Peary decided that his attempt in the spring of 1901 should be made 
from Grant Land, on the west side of Robeson Channel. He would 
make Fort Conger his preliminar}' base again, and seek to leave the land 
at Cape Hecla, said to be the northernmost point of land in the vast 
archipelago west of Greenland. L-ate in the winter, therefore, instead 
of staying down near his ship, Peary was quartered at Fort Conger. 

April 5, 1901, he started with Henson, one Eskimo, two sledges and 
twelve dogs for the vicinity of Cape Hecla. On reaching the vicinity 
of Lincoln Bay, he found the condition of the men and dogs was such 
that he was obliged to turn back. Late in April, he started southward, 
and arrived at Cape Sabine on his birthday, May 6th. Several weeks 
later the Erik arrived from the south with mail and food. Then both 
the relief ship and the Windward returned to lower latitudes, Mrs. Peary 
coming home on her husband's own ship. The report of this last year's 
accomplishment, as given earlier in this article, completes substantially 
he record of these years of effort in the North. 




PART V. 
W CHAPTER XXXVI. 

HEROINES OF THE HOSPITAL 
AND BATTLEFIELD. 

WOMEN WHO HAVE FOLLOWED ARMIES TO CARE FOR THE WOUNDED 
AND DYING — MINISTERING ANGELS OF MERCY — NOBLE ART OF 
NURSING — ONE ATTRACTIVE ELEMENT IN THE SAVAGERY OF WAR. 

Among tlie personal influences that have altered the everyday life 
of the present century, the future historian will probably allot a promi- 
nent place to that of Florence Nightingale. Before she took up the work 
of her life, the art of sick nursing in England can hardly have been said 
to exist. Almost every one had a well-founded horror of the hired nurse ; 
she was often ignorant, cruel, rapacious, and drunken ; and when she was 
not quite as bad as that, she was prejudiced, superstitious, and impervious 
to new ideas or knowledge. 

The worst type of the nurse of the pre-Nightiugale era has been 
portrayed by Dickens in his "Sairey Gamp" with her bottle of gin or rum 
upon the "chimbley piece," handy for her to put it to her lips when 
she was "so dispoged." "Sairey Gamp" is one of the blessings of the 
good old days which have now vanished forever ; with her disappearance 
has also gradually disappeared the repiignance with which the profes- 
sional nurse was at one time almost universally regarded ; and there is 
now hardly any one who has not had cause to be thankful for the quick, 
gentle, and skilful assistance of the trained nurse. 

Miss Nightingale never favored the curiosit}^ of those who would 

wish to pry into the details of her private history. She was- indeed so 
522 



FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 523 

retiring that there is some difficulty in getting accurate information about 
anything concerning her, with the exception of her public work. In a 
letter she allowed to be published, she says, "Being naturally a very sh}^ 
person, most of my life has been distasteful to me." 

It would be very ungrateful and unbecoming in those who have bene- 
fited by her self-forgetful labors to attempt in any way to thwart her desire 
for privacy as to her personal affairs. The attention of the readers of 
this sketch will therefore be directed to Miss Nightingale's public work, 
and what the world, and women in particular, have gained by the noble 
example she set of how women's work should be done. 

CARE OF THE SICK IS WOMEN'S WORK. 

From time immemorial it has been universally recognized that the 
care of the sick is women's work ; but somehow, partly from the low 
standard of women's education, partly from the false notion that all paid 
work was in a way degrading to a woman's gentility, it seemed to be 
imagined that women could do this work of caring for the sick without 
any special teaching or preparation for it ; and as all paid work was sup- 
posed to be unladylike, no woman imdertook it unless she was driven to 
it by the dire stress of poverty, and had therefore neither the time nor 
means to acquire the training necessary to do it well. 

The lesson of Florence Nightingale's life is that painstaking study 
and preparation are just as necessary for women's work as they are for 
men's work. No young man attempts responsible work as a doctor, a 
lawyer, an engineer, or even a gardener or mechanic, without spending 
long years in fitting himself for his work ; but in old times women seemed 
to think they could do all their work, in governessing, nursing, or what 
not, by the light of nature, and without any special teaching and prepara- 
tion whatever. There is still some temptation on the part of women to 
fall into this fatal error. 

A young woman, not long ago, who had studied medicine in India 
only two years, was placed at the head of a dispensary and hospital for 
native women. Who would have dreamt of taking a boy, after only two 



524 FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 

years' study, for a post of similar responsibility and difficulty ? Of 
course failure and disappointment resulted, and it will probably be a long 
time before the native community in that part of India recover their 
confidence in lady doctors. 

Miss Nightingale spent nearly ten 3'ears in stud3ang nursing before 
she considered herself qualified to undertake the sanitary direction of 
even a small hospital. She went from place to place, not confining her 
studies to her own country. She spent about a year at the hospital and 
nursing institution at Kaiserswerth on the Rhine in 1849. This had 
been founded by Pastor Fliedner, and was under the care of a Protestant 
Sisterhood who had perfected the art of sick nursing to a degree unknown 
at that time in any other part of Europe. 

WEALTH NO OBSTACLE TO HER LABORS. 

From Kaiserswerth she visited institutions for similar purposes, in 
other parts of Germany, and in France and Italy. It is obvious she could 
not have devoted the time and monev which all this preparation must 
have cost if she had not been a member of a wealthy famil3^ The fact 
that .she was so makes her example all the more valuable. »Slie was the 
daughter and co-heiress of a wealthy country gentleman of Lea Hurst i:i 
Derbyshire, and Embly Park in Hampshire. As a young girl she had 
the choice of all that wealth, luxurj', and fashion could offer in the wa\- 
of self-indulgence and ease, and she set them all on one side for the sake 
of learning how to benefit suffering humanity by making sick nursing an 
art in England. 

In the letter already quoted Miss Nightingale gives, in reply to a 
special appeal, advice to 3'ouug women about their work : "i. I would say 
also to all 3'oung ladies who are called to an3' particular vocation, qualify 
3'ourselves for it, as a man does for his work. Don't think you can 
undertake it otherwise. No one should attempt to teach the Greek lan- 
guage until he is master of the language ; and this he can onl3' become 
b3' hard study. 

"2. If you are called to man's work, do not exact a woman's privileges 



FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 525 

— the privilege of inaccuracy, of weakness, ye muddleheads. Submit 
yourselves to tlie rules of business, as men do, by wliicli alone you can 
make God's business succeed ; for He has never said that He will give 
His success and His blessing to inefficiency, to sketchy and unfinished 
work." 

Here without intending it. Miss Nightingale drew a picture of her 
own character and methods. Years of hard study prepared her for her 
work ; no inaccuracy, no weakness, no muddleheadedness was to be found 
in what she undertook ; everything was business-like, orderl}^, and 
thorough. Those who knew her in the hospital spoke of her as combining 
"the voice of velvet and the will of steel." 

"BETTER THAN NURSE OR DOCTOR" 

She was not content with having a natural vocatiou for her work. 
It is said that when she was a young girl she was accustomed to dress 
the wounds of those who were hurt in the lead mines and quarries of her 
Derbyshire home, and that the saying was, "Our good young miss is 
better than nurse or doctor." If this is accurate, she did not err by 
burying her talent in the earth, and thinking that because she had a 
natural gift there was no need to cultivate it. She saw rather that 
because she had a natural gift it was her duty to increase it and make 
it of the utmost benefit to mankind. 

At the end of her ten years' training, she came to the nursing home 
and hospital for governesses in Harley Street, an excellent institution, 
which at that time had fallen into some disorder through mismanagement. 
She stayed here from August, 1853, till October, 1854, and in those four- 
teen months placed the domestic, financial and sanitary affairs of the 
little hospital on a sound footing. 

Now, however, the work with which her name will always be asso- 
ciated, and for which she will always be loved and honored, was about to 
commence. The Crimean war broke out early in 1854, and within a very 
few weeks of the commencement of actual fighting, every one at home 
was horrified and ashamed to hear i.f the frightful disorganization of the 



526 FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 

supplies, aud of the utter breakdown of the commissariat and medical 
arrangements. The most hopeless hugger-mugger reigned triumphant. 
The tinned meats sent out from England were little better than poison ; 
ships arrived with stores of boots which proved all to be for the left foot. 
(Muddleheads do not all belong to one sex.) The medical arrangements 
for the sick and wounded were on a par with the rest. 

Mr. Justin M'Carthy, in his History of Our Own Times, speaks of 
the hospitals for the sick and wounded at Scutari as being in an abso- 
lutely chaotic condition. "In some instances," he writes, "medical stores 
were left to decay at Varna, or were found lying useless in the holds of 
vessels in Balaklava Bay, which were needed for the wounded at Scutari. 
The medical officers were able and zealous men ; the stores were provided 
and paid for so far as our Government was concerned ; but the stores were 
not brought to the medical men. These had their hands all biit idle, 
their eyes and souls tortured by the sight of sufferings which they were 
unable to relieve for want of the commonest appliances of the hospital." 

MEN DYING LIKE SHEEP IN CAMP. 

The result was that the most frightful mortality prevailed, not so 
much from the inevitable risks of battle, but from the insanitary condi- 
tions of the camp, the want of proper food, clothing, and fuel, and the 
wretched hospital arrangements. Mr. Mackenzie, author of a History of 
the Nineteenth Centurj', gives the following facts and figures with regard 
to the total losses in the Crimea : "Out of a total loss of 20,656, only 2598 
were slain in battle ; 18,058 died in hospital." "Several regiments became 
literally extinct. One had but seven men left fit for duty ; another had 
thirty. When the sick were put on board transports, to be conveyed to 
hospital, the mortality was shocking. In some ships one man in every 
four died in a voyage of seven days. In some of the hospitals recovery- 
was the rare exception. At one time four-fifths of the poor fellows who 
underwent amputation died of hospital gangrene. During the first seven 
months of the siege the men perished by disease at a rate which would 
have extinguished the entire force in little more than a year aud a half" 



FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 527 

When these facts became kuowu iu England, the mingled grief, 
shame, and auger of the whole nation were unbounded. It was then that 
Mr. Sidney Herbert, who was Minister of War, appealed to Miss Night- 
ingale to organize and take out with her a band of trained nurses. It is 
needless to say that she consented. She was armed with full authority 
to cut the swathes of red tape that had proved shrouds to so many 
soldiers. On the 2ist of October, 1S54, Miss Nightingale, accompanied 
b}' fort3'-two other ladies, all trained nurses, set sail for the Crimea. Thej' 
arrived at Constantinople on the 4th of November, the eve of Inkerman, 
which was fought on the 5th of November. 

QUICK IMPROVEMENT IN HOSPITAL SERVICE. 

Their first work, therefore, was to receive into the wards, which were 
already filled by 2300 men, the wounded from what proved the severest 
and fiercest engagement of the campaign. Miss Nightingale and her 
band of nurses proved fully equal to the charge they had undertaken. 
She, by a combination of inexorable firmness with unvarying gentleness, 
evolved order out of chaos. After her arrival, there w'ere no more com- 
plaints of the inefficiency of the hospital arrangements for the army. 
The extraordinary way in which she spent herself and let herself be 
spent will never be forgotten. 

She has been known to stand for twenty hours at a stretch, iu order 
to see the wounded provided with every means of easing their condition. 
Her attention was directed not only to nursing the sick and wounded, 
but to removing the causes which had made the camp and the hospitals 
so deadly to their inmates. The extent of the work of mere nursing 
may be estimated by the fact that a few months after her arrival ten 
thousand sick men were under her care, and the row-s of beds in one 
hospital alone, the Barrack Hospital at Scutari, measured two miles and 
one-third iu length, with an average distance between each bed of two 
feet six inches. 

Miss Nightingale's personal influence and authority over the men 
were immensely and deservedly strong They knew she had left the 



528 florencp: nightingale. 

co:uforts and refinements of a wealthy home to be of service to tliem. 
Her slight, delicate form, her steady nerve, her kindly, conciliating man- 
ner, and her absolute self-devotion, awoke a passion of chivalrous feeling 
on the ])art of the men she tended. Sometimes a soldier would refuse to 
submit to a painful but necessary operation until a few calm sentences of 
hers seemed at once to alia}' the storm, and the man would submit will- 
ingl}' to the ordeal he had to undergo. 

One soldier said, " Before she came here, there was such cursin' 
and sweariug, and after that it was as holy as a church." Another said 
to Air. Sidney Herbert, "She would speak to one and another, and nod 
and srnile to many more ; but she could not do it to all, you know — we 
la}' there in hundreds — but we could kiss her shadow as it fell, and lay 
our heads on the pillow again, content." 

WELCOMED BY WHOLE NATION. 

This incident, of the wouuded soldier turning to kiss her shadow as 
it passed, was woven into a beautiful poem by Longfellow. It is called 
"Santa Filomena." The fact that she had been born in, and had been 
named after the city of Florence, may have suggested to the poet to turn 
her name into the language of the country of her birth. 

Miss Nightingale suffered from an attack of hospital fever in the 
spring of 1855, but as soon as possible she returned to her laborious post, 
and never quitted it till the war was over and the last soldier was on his 
way home. When she returned to England she received such a welcome 
as probably has fallen to no other woman ; all distinctions of party and 
of rank were forgotten in the one wish to do her honor. 

She was presented by the Queen with a jewel in commemoration of 
her work in the Crimea, and a national testimonial was set on foot, to which 
a sum of ^50,000 ($250,000) was subscribed. It is unnecessary to say 
that Miss Nightingale did not accept this testimonial for her own personal 
benefit. The sum was devoted to the permanent endowment of schools 
for the training of nurses in St. Thomas's and King's College Hospitals. 

Since the Crimea no European war has taken place without calling 



FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 529 

forth the service of trained bauds of skilled nurses. Within ten years of 
Floreuce Nightingale's labors in the East, the nations of Europe agreed 
at the Geneva Couveutiou upon certain rules and regulations, with the 
object of ameliorating the condition of the sick and wounded in war. By 
this convention all ambulances and military hospitals were neutralized, 
and their inmates and staff were henceforth to be regarded as non-com- 
batants. The distinguishing red cross of the Geneva Convention is now 
universally recognized as the one civilized element in the savagery 
of war. 

SANTA FILOMENA. 

BY H. W. LONGFELLOW. 



Whene'er a noble deed is wrought, 
Whene'er is spoken a noble thought, 

Our hearts, in glad surprise. 

To higher levels rise. 

The tidal wave of deepest souls 

Into our inmost being rolls, 
And lifts us unawares 
Out of all meaner cares. 

Honor to those whose words or deeds 
Thus help us in our daily needs, 
\nd by their overflow 
Raise us from what is low. 

Thus thought I, as by night I read 
Of the great army of the dead, 
The trenches cold and damp. 
The starved and frozen camp ; 

The wounded from the battle plain 

In dreary hospitals of pain, 
The cheerless corridors, 
The cold and stony floors. 

Lo ! in that house of misery 
A lady with a lamp I see 



Pass through the glimmering gloom. 
And flit from room to room. 

And slow, as in a dream of bliss. 
The speechless sufferer turns to kiss 
Her shadow, as it falls 
Upon the darkened wall.s. 

As if a door in heaven should be 
Opened, and then closed suddenly, 
The vision came and went. 
The light shone and was spent. 

On England's annals, through the long 
Hereafter of her speech and song. 

That light its rays shall cast 

From portals of the past. 

A lady with a lamp shall stand 
In the great history of the land, 

A noble type of good 

Heroic womanhood. 

Nor even shall be wanting here 
The palm, the lily, and the spear, 

The symbols that of yore 

Saint Filomena bore. 



"These French Zouaves," wrote Dr. Russell, the celebrated corre- 
spondent of the London Times, ' 'are first-rate foragers. You may see 



530 FLORKNCE NIGHTINGALE. 

them in all directions ladeu with eggs, meat, fish, vegetables (onions) 
and other good things, while our fellows can get nothing. Sometimes, 
our servant is sent out to cater for breakfast or dinner ; he returns with 
the usual ' Me and the colonel's servant has been all over the town, and 
can get nothing but eggs and onions, sir ;' and lo ! rouud the corner 
appears a red-breeched Zouave or Chasseur, a bottle of wine under his 
left arm, half a lamb under the other, and poultry, fish, and other lux- 
uries dangling round him. ' I'm sure, I don't know how these French 
manages it, sir,' sa3-s the crestfallen jMercurj-, and retires to cook the 
eggs." 

Some of the general officers, instead of directing their energies to 
remedying this state of things, appear to have beeu chiefly concerned in 
compelling men to shave ever}' day, and to wear their leathern stocks on 
parade. One of the generals, it is said, hated hair on the heads and faces 
of soldiers with a kind of mania. " Where there is much hair," said he, 
"there is dirt, and where there is dirt there will be disease;" forgetting 
that hair was placed upon the human head and face to protect it against 
winds and weather such as these soldiers were experienciug. 

LOUD CHEERS FROM THE SOLDIERS. 

It was not until the ami}' had beeu ten weeks in the field, and were 
exposed to the blazing heat of summer, that the Queen's own guards 
were permitted to leave off those terrible stocks, aud they celebrated the 
jo3-ful event bv three as thundering cheers as ever issued from the eman- 
cipated throats of men. After six months' service, the great boon was 
granted of permitting the men to wear a mustache, but not a beard. It 
was not until almost all order was lost and stamped out of sight in the 
mire and snow of the following winter, that the general in command 
allowed his troops to enjoy the protection of the full beard. Nor were 
the private habits of the men conducive to the preservatiou of their health. 

Twent}' soldiers of one regiment were in the guard-house on the 
same da}' for drunkenness, at Gallipoli. As late as the middle of April 
there was still a lamentable scarcity of everything required for the hos- 



FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 531 

pitaL "There were no blankets for the sick," wrote Dr. Russell, "no 
beds, no mattresses, no medical comforts of any kind ; and the invalid 
soldiers had to lie for several days on the bare boards, in a wooden house, 
with nothing but a single blanket as bed and covering." 

Every time the arm}^ moved it seemed to get into worse quarters, 
and to be more wanting in necessary supplies. The camp at Aladyu, 
where the army was posted at the end of June, was a melancholy example 
of this truth. The camp was ten miles from the sea, in the midst of a 
country utterly deserted, and the only communication between the camp 
and the post was furnished by heavy carts, drawn by buffaloes, at the 
rate of a mile and a half an hour ; and by this kind of transportation an 
army of twenty-five thousand men, and thirteen thousand horses, had to 
be fed. The scene can be imagined, as well as the results upon the com- 
fort and health of the troops. 

LAMENTABLE OUTBREAK OF CHOLERA. 

In July the cholera broke out, and carried off officers and men of 
both armies in considerable numbers. Jxih' the 24th, it suddenl}^ appeared 
in the camp of the light division, and twenty men died in twenty- four 
hours. A sergeant attacked at seven, a. m., was dead at noon. What 
was, at once, remarkable and terrible in this disease, it was often quite 
painless. And ^-et, in the midst of all this horror and death, the soldiers 
of both armies exhibited a wonderful recklessness. 

" You find them," wrote Dr. Russell, " lying drunk in the kennels, 
or in the ditches by the roadsides, under the blazing rays of the suu, 
covered with swarms of flies. You see them in stupid sobriety, gravely 
paring the rind off cucumbers of portentous dimensions, and eating the 
deadlj' cylinders one after another, to the number of six or eight, — all 
the while sitting in groups, in the open streets ; or, frequently, three or 
four of them will make a happy bargain with a Greek, for a large basket- 
ful of apricots, watermelons, wooden pears, and green gages, and then 
thev retire beneath the shades of a tree, where they divide and eat the 
luscious food till naught remains but a heap of peels, rind, and stones. 



532 FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 

They dilute the mass of fruit with peach brandy, and then straggle home, 
or go to sleep as best they can." 

Think of the military discipline which could compel the wearing of 
stocks, forbid the growth of a beard, and permit such heedless suicide as 
this, of men appointed to maintain the honor of their country's flag on 
foreign soil ! How incredible it would be, if we had not abundant proof 
of the fact, that, at this very time, a lieutenant-general issued an order 
directing cavalry oflEcers to lay in a stock of yellow ochre and pipe cla\', 
for the use of the men in rubbing up their imiforms and accoutrements ! 

IN A RAINSTORM WITHOUT TENTS. 

On the 13th of September, 1854, twenty-seven thousand British 
troops were landed upon the shores of the Crimea, and marched six 
miles into the country. There was not so much as a tree for shelter on 
that bleak and destitute coast. The French troops who landed on the 
same day had small shelter tents with them ; but in all the English host 
there was but one tent. Towards night the wind rose, and it began to 
rain. At midnight, the rain fell in torrents, aud continued to do so all 
the rest of the night, penetrating the blankets and overcoats of the troops, 
and beating pitilessly down upon the aged generals, the young dandies, 
the steady going gentlemen, as well as npon the private soldiers of the 
English army, who slept in puddles, ditches, and watercourses, without 
fire, without grog, and without any certain prospect of breakfast. One 
general slept under a cart, and the Duke of Cambridge himself was no 
better accommodated. This was but the beginning of misery. 

On the following day, signals were made on the admiral's ship for 
all the vessels of the great fleet to send their sick men on board the 
Kangaroo. Thoughtless order ! In the course of the day, this vessel 
was surrounded by hundreds of boats filled with sick soldiers and sailors, 
and it was soon crowded to suffocation. Before night closed in, there 
were fifteen hundred sick on board of her, aud the scene was so full of 
horror that the details were deemed unfit for publication. The design 
was that these sick men should be conveyed on the Kangaroo to the 



FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 530 

neighborhood of Constautiuople, to be placed iu hospital. But when she 
had been crammed with her miserable freight, she was ascertained to be 
unseaworthy, and all the fifteen hundred had to be transferred to other 
vessels. Many deaths occurred during the process of removal. 

On the same day men were dying on the beach, and did actually die, 
without anj' medical assistance whatever. When the hospital was about 
to be established at Balaklava, some days after, sick men were sent 
thither before the slightest preparation for them had been made, and 
many of them remained in tlie open street for several hours in the rain. 

TENTS THEIR ONLY SHELTER IN WINTER. 

Winter came on — such a winter as we are accustomed to in and 
near the city of New York or Chicago. The whole army were still living 
in tents. No adequate preparation had been made, of any kind, for pro- 
tecting the troops against such snows, and cold, and rain, as they were 
certain to experience. This hurricaue broke upon the camp early in the 
morning of November the fourteenth, an hour before daylight, the wind 
bringing with it torrents of rain. The air was filled with blankets, coats, 
hats, jackets, quilts, bedclothes, tents, and even with tables and chairs. 
Wagons and ambulances were overturned by the force of the wind. 
Almost ever}^ tent was laid prostrate. 

The cavalry horses, terrified at the noise, broke loose, and the whole 
country, as far as the eye could reach, was covered with galloping horses. 
During the day the storm continued to rage, while not a fire could be 
lighted, nor any beginning made of repairing the damage. Towards 
night it began to snow, and a driving storm of snow and sleet tormented 
the army during the night. This storm proved more deadly on sea than 
on shore, and many a ship, stored with warm clothing, of which these 
troops were in perishing need, went to the bottom of the Black Sea. 

A few days after. Doctor Russell wrote : "It is now pouring rain — 
the skies are black as ink — the wind is howling over the staggering 
tents^the trenches are turned into dykes — iu the tents the water is 
sometimes a foot deep — our men have not either warm or water-proof 



534 FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 

clothing — tliey are out for twelve hours at a time in the treuches, — 
they are plunged into the inevitable miseries of a winter campaign — 
and not a soul seems to care for their comfort, or even for their lives. 

"These are hard truths, but the people of England must hear them. 
They must know that the wretched beggar, who wanders about the streets 
of London in the rain, leads the life of a prince compared with the British 
soldiers who are fighting out here for their countrj^, and who, we are 
complacently assured by the home authorities, are the best appointed 
arni}^ in Europe. They are well fed, indeed, but they have no shelter, 
no rest, and no defense against the weather. The tents, so long ex- 
posed to the blaze of a Bulgarian sun, and now continually drenched by 
torrents of rain, let the wet through 'like sieves,' and are perfectly useless 
as protections against the weather." 

DEMAND FOR EDUCATED NURSES. 

The great horror was the neglect of the sick in the hospitals, and a 
demand arose for a corps of skilful, educated nurses. There was but one 
woman in England iitted b}- character, position, and education, to head 
such a band. Sidney Herbert, a member of the British Cabinet, was an 
old friend of Florence Nightingale's father. Mr. Herbert was thus 
acquainted with the peculiar bent of Miss Nightingale's disposition 
and the nature of her training. B}^ a curious coincidence, and yet not 
an unnatural one, she wrote to him offering her services, and he wrote 
to her asking her aid, on the same day. Other ladies of birth and 
fortune volunteered to accompanj^her, to whom were added some superior 
professional nurses. October the 24th, 1854, Florence Nightingale, ac- 
companied b}^ a clerical friend and his wife, and b\' a corps of thirt}'- 
seven nurses, left England for the Crimea, followed b\- the benedictions 
of millions of their countrj^men. 

They traveled through France to Marseilles. On their journey the 
ladies were treated with more than the usual politeness of Frenchmen ; 
the innkeepers and even the servants would not take payment for their 
accommodation, and all ranks of people appeared to be in most cordial 



FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 535 

sympathy wifh their mission. Among other compliments paid Miss 
Nightingale by the press, one of the newspapers informed the public 
that her dress was charming, and that she was almost as graceful as the 
ladies of Paris. 

From Marseilles they were conveyed in a steamer to Scutari, where 
the principal hospitals were placed, which they reached on the 5th of 
November. In all the town, crowded with misery in every form, there 
were but five unoccupied rooms, which had been reserved for wounded 
officers of high rank ; these were assigned to the nurses, and they at 
once entered upon the performance of their duty. They came none too 
soon. In a few hours wounded men in great numbers began to be 
brought in from the action of Balaklava, and, ere long, thousands more 
arrived from the bloody field of Inkerman. Fortunatel}^ the " Times " 
commissioner was present to supply Miss Nightingale's first demands. 
Some days elapsed, however, before men ceased to die for want of stores, 
which had been supplied, Avhich were present in the town, but which 
could not be obtained at the place and moment required. One of the 
nurses reported that, during the first night of her attendance, eleven 
men died before her eyes, whom a little wine or arrow-root would almost 
certainly have benefited and probably have saved. 

NO TIME FOR RED TAPE. 

Miss Nightingale at once comprehended that it was no time to stand 
upon trifles. On the second day after her arrival six hundred wounded 
men were brought in, and the number increased until there were three 
thousand patients under her immediate charge. Miss Nightingale, one 
of the gentlest and tenderest of women, surveyed the scene of confusion 
and anguish with unruffled mind, and issued her orders with the calm- 
ness that comes of certain knowledge of what is best to be done. 

If red tape interposed, she quietly cut it. If there was no one near 
who was authorized to unlock a storehouse, she took a few Turks with 
her, and stood by while they broke it open. During the first week her 
labors were arduous beyond what would have been thought possible for 



536 FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 

an}- one ; she was known to stand for twenty hours directing the labors 
of men and women. Yet, however fatigued she might be, her manner 
was always .serene, and she had a smile or a compassionate word for the 
suffering as she passed them by. 

As soon as the first needs of the men were supplied, she established 
a washing-house, which she found time herself to superintend. Before 
that was done, there had been a washing contract in existence, the con- 
ditions of which were so totall}' neglected by the contractor, that the 
linen of the whole hospital was foul and rotten. She established a 
kitchen, which she also managed to inspect, in which hundreds of gallons 
of beef tea, and other liquid food, were prepared every da}'. She knew 
precisely how all these things should be done ; she was acquainted with 
the best apparatus for doing them ; and she was thus enabled, out of the 
rough material around her — that is to say, out of boards, camp-kettles, 
camp-stores, and blundering Turks — to create laundries and kitchens 
which answered the purpose well, until better could be provided. 

A MINISTERING ANGEL IN HOSPITALS 

She also well understood the art of husbanding skilful labor. When 
a few nurses could be spared from the wards of the hospital, she set them 
to preparing padding for amputated limbs, and other surgical appliances ; 
so that when a thousand wounded suddenly arrived from the battlefield, 
men no longer perished for the want of some trifling but indispensable 
article, which foresight could have provided. 

The " Times " commissioner wrote: " She is a ministering angel 
in these hospitals ; and, as her slender form glides quietly along each 
corridor, every poor fellow's face softens with gratitude at the sight of her. 
When all the medical officers have retired for the night, and silence and 
darkness have settled down upon those miles of prostrate sick, she may be 
observed alone, with a little lamp in her hand, making her solitary 
rounds." What a picture is this ! 

The same writer continues: "The popular instinct was not mis- 
taken which, when she set out from England on her mission of mercy, 



FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 537 

hailed her as a heroine. I trust that she may not earn her title to a 
higher though sadder appellation. No one who has observed her fragile 
figure and delicate health can avoid misgivings lest these should fail. 
With the heart of a true woman, and the manners of a lady, accom- 
plished and refined beyond most of her sex, she combines a surprising 
calmness of judgment, and promptitude, and decision of character." 

Incredible as it now seems, the arrival of these ladies was far from 
being welcomed either by the medical or military officers, and it required 
all the firmness and tact of a Florence Nightingale to overcome the 
obstacles which were placed or left in her way. Several weeks passed 
before the hospital authorities cordially co-operated with her. A witty 
clergyman remarked : " She belongs to a sect which unfortunately is a 
very rare one — the sect of the Good Samaritans." 

PERSONAL APPEARANCE AND ATTRACTIONS. 

An excellent and liberal-minded chaplain, the Rev. S. G. Osborne, 
in his work on the Hospitals of Scutari, describes, in the most interest- 
ing manner, the appearance and demeanor of Miss Nightingale. " In 
appearance," he says, " she is just what you would expect in any other 
well-bred woman who may have seen, perhaps, rather more than thirty 
years of life ; her manner and countenance are prepossessing, and this 
without the possession of positive beauty ; it is a face not easily forgot- 
ten, pleasing in its smile, with an eye betokening great self-possession, 
and giving, when she pleases, a quiet look of firm determination to every 
feature. Her general demeanor is quiet and rather reserved ; still, I 
am much mistaken if she is not gifted with a very lively sense of the 
ridiculous. 

" In conversation, she speaks on matters of business with a grave 
earnestness one would not expect from her appearance. She has evidently 
a mind disciplined to restrain, under the pressure of the action of the 
moment, every feeling which would interfere with it. She has trained 
herself to command, and learned the value of conciliation towards others 
and constraint over herself. I can conceive her to be a strict disciplin- 



538 FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 

ariau^ she throws herself into a work as its head — as such she knows 
well how much success must depend upon literal obedience to her every 
order. She seems to understand business thoroughly. Her nerve is 
wonderful ! I have been with her at very severe operations : she was 
more than equal to the trial. 

" She has an utter disregard of contagion. I have known her spend 
hours over men dying of cholera or fever. The more awful to every 
sense any particular case, especially if it was that of a dying man, her 
slight form would be seen bending over him, administering to his ease 
in every way in her power, and seldom quitting his side till death 
released him." Only a Florence Nightingale could do this. 

IN RAPTURES OVER BRIGHT FLOWERS. 

Speaking of the delight which the sick take in flowers, she says: "I 
have seen in fevers (and felt when I was a fever patient) the most 
acute suffering produced, from the patient (in a hut) not being able to 
see out of window, and the knots in the wood being the only view. I 
shall never forget the rapture of fever patients over a bunch of bright- 
colored flowers. I remember ( in my own case ) a nosegay of Avild 
flowers being sent me, and from that moment recovery becoming more 
rapid. " 

By this time, excursionists and yachtsmen began to arrive at the 
Crimea, one of whom lent her a yacht, the use of which much aided her 
recovery. When she first sailed in it, she had to be carried to the vessel 
in the arms of men. 

She remained in the Crimea a 3'ear and ten mouths, and reached home 
again in safety, but an invalid for life, on the 8th of September, 1S56. 
All England felt that something must be done to mark the national 
gratitude, and perpetuate the memory of it forever. Fifty thousand 
poiinds were raised, as already stated, almost without an effort, and it 
was concluded at length, to employ this fund in enabling Miss Night- 
ingale to establish an institution for the training of nurses. She sanc- 
tioned and accepted this trust, and was chiefly employed afterwards 



FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 539 

iu labors connected with it. The Sultan of Turkey sent her a magnifi- 
cent bracelet. The Qneeu of England gave her a cross beautifully 
formed, and blazing with gems. The queen invited her also to visit her 
retreat at Balmoral, and Miss Nightingale spent some days there receiv- 
ing the homage of the royal family. 

Not the least service which this noble lady has rendered the suffering 
sons of men has been the publication of the work just referred to, entitled 
"Notes on Nursing; what it is and what it is not," — one of the very few 
little books of which it can be truly said that a copy ought to be in every 
house. In this work, she gives the world, in a lively, vigorous manner, 
the substance of all that knowledge of nursing, which she so labor- 
iously acquired. Her directions are admirably simple, and still more 
admirably wise, and are the result of experience. 

CHIEF DUTIES OF A GOOD NURSE. 

"The chief duty of a nurse," she says, "is simply this: 'To keep 
the air which the patient breathes as pure as the external air, but 
without chilling him.'" This, she insisted, is the main point, and is so 
important that if you attend properly to that you may leave almost all 
the rest to nature. She dwells most forcibl}' upon the absolute necessity, 
and wonderfully curative power, of perfect cleanliness and bright light. 
Her little chapter upon Noise in the Sick Room, in which she shows 
how necessary it is for a patient never to be startled, disturbed, or 
fidgeted, is most admirable and affecting. She seems to have entered 
into the very soul of sick people, and to have as lively a sense of how 
the}' feel, what the}' like, what gives them pain, what hinders or retards 
their recovery, as though she were herself the wretch whose case she is 
describing. If she had done nothing else in her life biit produce this 
wise, kind and pointed little work, she would deserve the gratitude of 
suffering man. 

The book, too, although remarkably free from direct allusions to 
herself, contains much biographical material. We see the woman on 
every page — the woman who takes nothing for granted, whom sophistry 



540 FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 

cannot deceive, who looks at things with her own honest eyes, reflects 
upon them with her own fearless mind, and speaks of them in good, 
downright, Nigthingale English. She ever returns to her grand, funda- 
mental position, the curative power of fresh, pure air. Disease, she 
remarks, is not an evil, but a blessing ; it is a reparative process — an 
effort of nature to get rid of something hostile to life. That being the 
case, it is of the first importance to remove what she considers the chief 
cause of disease — the inhaling of poisonous air. She laughs to scorn 
the impious cant, so often emplo3^ed to console bereaved parents, that 
the death of children is a "mysterious dispensation of Providence." 
No such thing. Children perish, she tells us, because they are packed 
into unventilated school-rooms, and sleep at night in unventilated 

dormitories. 

BLESSINGS OF PURE, FRESH AIR. 

"An extraordinary fallacy," she says, "is the dread of night air. 
What air can we breathe at night but night air ? The choice is 
between pure night air from without and foul night air from within. 
Most people prefer the latter. An unaccountable choice ! An open 
window, most nights in the year, can never hurt any one." 
Better, she remarks, shut the windows all day than all night. She 
maintains, too, that the reason why people now-a-days, especially ladies, 
are less robust than they were formerly, is because they pass the greater 
part of their lives in breathing poison. Upon this point she expresses 
herself with great force : — 

"The houses of the grandmothers and great-grandmothers of this 
generation (at least, the country houses), with front door and back door 
always standing open, winter and summer, and a thorough draft always 
blowing through — with all the scrubbing, and cleaniug, aud polishing, 
and scouring, which used to go on — the grandmothers, and, still more, 
the great-grandmothers, always out-of-doors, and never with a bonnet on 
except to go church ; these things entirely account for a fact so often 
seen of a great-grandmother wlio was a tower of physical vigor, descend- 
ing into a grandmother, perhaps a little less vigorous, but still sound as 



Florence: nightingale. 541 

a bell, and healthy to the core, into a mother languid and confined to 
her carriage and her house, and lastly into a daughter sickly and 
confined to her bed. 

" For, remember, even with a general decrease of mortality, you may 
often find a race thiis degenerating, and still oftener a family. You may 
see poor, little, feeble, washed-out rags, children of a noble stock, suf- 
fering, morally and physicall}-, throughout their useless, degenerate 
lives ; and yet people who are going to marry and to bring more such 
into the world, will consult nothing but their own convenience as to 
where they are to live or how thej- are to live." 

SMALL POX NOT ALWAYS FROM CONTAGION. 

On the subject of contagion she has decided and important opinions. 
"I was brought up," she says, "both by scientific men and ignorant 
women, distinctly to believe that small-pox, for instance, was a thing of 
which there was once a first specimen in the world, which went on 
propagating itself in a perpetual chain of descent, just as much as that 
there was a first dog (or a first pair of dogs), aud that small-pox would 
not begin itself any more than a new dog would begin without there 
having been a parent dog. Since then I have seen with my eyes, and 
smelt with my nose, small-pox growing up in first specimens, either in 
close rooms or in overcrowded wards, where it could not b}' an}- possi- 
bility have been caught, but must have begun. Nay, more. I have seen 
diseases begin, grow up, and pass into one another. Now, dogs do not 
pass into cats. I have seen, for instance, with a little overcrowding, con- 
tinued fever grow up ; and, with a little more, typhoid fever ; and, with 
a little more, typhus ; and all in the same ward or hut. Would it not 
be far better, truer, and more practical, if we looked upon disease in 
this light?" 

"Again," she says, "why must a child have measles? If 3^ou 
believed in and observed the laws for preserving the health of houses, 
which inculcate cleanliness, ventilation, whitewashing, and other means 
(and which, by the way, are laws) as implicitly as you believe in the 



542 FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 

popular opinion (for it is nothing more than an opinion) that 3fonr child 
must have children's epidemics, don't you think that, upon the whole, 
your child would be more likelj^ to escape altogether?"' 

She has a very pleasing and suggestive passage upon the kind of 
conversation which is most beneficial to the sick. "A sick person," she 
observes, "does so enjoy hearing good news; for instance, of a love and 
courtship while in progress to a good ending. If 3-ou tell him onh' 
when the marriage takes place, he loses half the pleasure, which, God 
knows, he has little enough of; and, ten to one, but you have told him 
of some love-making with a bad ending. A sick person also intensely 
enjoys hearing of any material good, any positive or practical success of 
the right. He has so much of books and fiction, of principles, and pre- 
cepts, and theories ! Do, instead of advising him with advice he has 
heard at least fifty times before, tell him of one benevolent act which has 
really succeeded practically ; it is like a day's health to him. 

PO^A^ER TO THINK BUT NOT TO DO. 

" You have no idea what the craving of the sick, with undiminished 
power of thinking, but little power of doing, is to hear of good practical 
action, when the}- can no longer partake in it. Do observe these things 
with the sick. Do remember how their life is to them disappointed and 
incomplete. You see them lying there with miserable disappointments, 
from Avhich the}' can have no escape but death, and you can't remember 
to tell them of what would give them so much pleasure, or at least an 
hour's variety. They don't want you to be lachrymose and whining 
with them ; they like you to be fresh, and active, and interesting ; but 
they cannot bear absence of mind ; and they are so tired of the advice 
and preaching the}' receive from everybody, no matter whom it is, 
they see. 

"There is no better society than babies and sick people for one 
another. Of course yoii must manage this so that neither shall suffer 
from it, which is perfectly possible. If you think the air of the sick- 
room bad for the baby, why it is bad for the invalid, too, and therefore 



FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 543 

you will of course correct it for both. It fresheus up the sick person's 
whole mental atmosphere to see ' the baby.' And a very young child, if 
unspoiled, will generally adapt itself wonderfully to the ways of a sick 
person, if the time they spend together is not too long." 

These passages give us a more correct conception of the mind and 
character of Florence Nightingale than any narrative of her life which 
has yet been given to the public. There has been nothing of chance in 
her career. She gained her knowledge, as it is always gained, by faith- 
ful and laborious study, and she acquired skill in applying her knowledge 
by careful practice. 

There can be no doubt that the example of Miss Nightingale had 
much to do in calling forth the exertions of Ameriean women during 
our late war. As soon as we had wounded soldiers to heal, and military 
hospitals to serve, the patriotic and benevolent ladies of America thought 
of Florence Nightingale, and hastened to offer their assistance ; and, 
doiibtless, it was the magic of her name which assisted to open a way 
for them, and broke down the prejudices which might have proved insur- 
mountable. When Florence Nightingale overcame the silent opposition 
of ancient surgeons and obstinate old sergeants in the Crimea, she was 
also smoothing the path of American women on the banks of the Potomac 
and the Mississippi, and in our war with Spain. Her name and example 
belong to the race which she has honored ; but to us, whom she 
taught the art of nursing, and thus associated her name with the benev- 
olent and heroic ladies of our land, she will ever be peculiarly dear. 

Her career is a good example of overcoming obstacles by heroic 
courage, indomitable will and a patience that never fails. She was calm 
and self-possessed under the most trying circumstances. This is a 
temperament that does not belong natnrall}^ to every one, but can be 
cultivated. Trained nurses need to have rare qualities and experience 
in order to succeed and perform well their very difficult work. It is a 
noble and useful calling. 



CLARA BARTON. 

Of those whom the first blast of our Civil War trump roused and 
called to lives of patriotic devotion and philanthropic endeavor, some 
were led instinctivel}' to associated labor, and found their zeal inflamed, 
their patriotic eff"orts cheered and encouraged by communion with those 
who were like-minded. To these the organizations of the Soldiers' Aid 
Societies and of the Sanitary and Christian Commissions were a necessit}^ ; 
they provided a way and place for the exercise and development of those 
capacities for noble and heroic endeavor, and generous self-sacrifice, so 
gloriously manifested b}- mau}- of our American women. 

But there were others endowed by their Creator with greater inde- 
pendence of character and higer executive powers, who while not less 
modest and retiring in disposition than their sisters, yet preferred to 
mark out their own career, and pursue an independent course. 

To this latter class pre-eminently belongs Miss Clara Barton. 

Quiet, modest, and unassuming in manner and appearance, there is 
beneath this quiet exterior an intense energy, a comprehensive intellect, 
a resolute will, and an executive force, which is found in few of the 
stronger sex, and which mingled with the tenderness and grace of refined 
womanhood eminently qualifies her to become an independent power. 

CAME FROM AN EXCELLENT FAMILY. 

Miss Barton was born in North Oxford, Worcester County, Massa- 
chusetts. Her father, Stephen Barton, Sr., was a man highly esteemed 
in the community in which he dwelt, and by which his worth was most 
thoroughly known. In early youth he had served as a soldier in the 
West under General Wayne, the " Mad Anthony " of the early days of 
the Republic, and his boyish eyes had witnessed the evacuation of Detroit. 

The little Clara was the youngest by several years in a family of 
two brothers and three sisters. She was early taught that primeval ben- 
ediction, miscalled a curse, which requires mankind to earn their bread. 
Besides domestic duties and a very thorough public school training she 
learned the general rules of business by acting as clerk and bookkeeper 

544 



CLARA BARTON. 545 

for lier eldest brother. Next she betook herself to the district school, the 
usual stepping-stone for all aspiring men and women in New England. 
She taught for several years, commencing when very young, in various 
places in Massachusetts and New Jersey. The large circle of friends 
thus formed was not without its influence in determining her military 
career. So many of her pupils volunteered in the first years of the war 
that at the second battle of Bull Run she found seven of them, each of 
whom had lost an arm or a leg. 

BEGINS AND CARRIES ON A PUBLIC SCHOOL. 

One example will show her character as a teacher. She went to 
Bordentown, N. J., in 1853, where there was not, and never had been, a 
public s&hool. Three or four unsuccessful attempts had been made, and 
the idea had been abandoned as not adapted to that latitude. The 
brightest boys in the town ran untaught in the streets. She offered to 
teach a free school for three months at her own expense, to convince the 
citizens that it could be done ; and she was laughed at as a visionary. Si.K 
weeks of waiting and debating induced the authorities to fit up an unoc- 
cupied building at a little distance from the town. She commenced witli 
six outcast boys, and in five weeks the house would not hold the number 
that came. 

The commissioners, at her instance, erected the present school build- 
ing of Bordentown, a three-story brick building, costing four thousand 
dollars ; and there, in the winter of 1853-4, she organized the cit}^ free 
school with a roll of six hundred pupils. But the severe labor, and the 
great amount of loud speaking required, in the newly plastered rooms, 
injured her health, and for a time deprived her of her voice — the prime 
agent of instruction. Being unable to teach, she left New Jersey about 
the 1st of March, 1854, seeking rest and a milder climate, and went as 
far south as Washington. 

While there, a friend and distant relative, then in Congress, volun- 
tarily obtained for her an appointment in the Patent OfiSce, where she 
continued until the fall of 1857. Sbe was employed at first as a copyist, 
35 



546 CLARA BARTON. 

and afterwards in tlie more responsible work of abridging original papers, 
and preparing records for publication. As she was an excellent cbirog- 
raplier, with a clear head for business, and was paid by the piece and 
not b}' the month, she made money fast, as matters were then reckoned, 
and she was very liberal with it. 

" I met her," says a friend, " often during those years, as I have 
since and rarely saw her without some pet scheme of benevolence on her 
hands which she pursued with an enthusiasm that was quite heroic, and 
sometimes amusing. The roll of those she has helped, or tried to help, 
with her purse, her personal influence or her counsels, would be a long 
one ; orphan children, deserted wives, destitute women, sick or unsuc- 
cessful relatives, men who have failed in business, and boys who never 
had auy business — all who were in want, or in trouble, and could claim 
the slightest acquaintance, came to her for aid and were never repulsed. 
Strange it was to see this generous girl, whose own hands ministered to 
all her wants, always giving to those around her, instead of receiving, 
strengthening the hands and directing the steps of so many who would 
have seemed better calculated to help her. 

SPECIAL ATTENDANT OF A SICK BROTHER. 

" She must have had a native genius for nursing; for in her twelfth 
year she was selected as the special attendant of a sick brother, and 
remained in his chamber by day and by night for two years, with only 
a respite of one half-day in all that time. Think, O reader ! of a little 
girl in short dresses and pantalettes, neither going to school nor to plaj^ 
but imprisoned for years in the deadly air of a sick room, and made to 
feel, every moment, that a brother's life depended on her vigilance. 
Then followed a still longer period of sickness and feebleness on her 
own part ; and from that time to the present, sickness, danger and death 
have been always near her, till they have grown familiar as playmates, 
and she has come to understand all the wants and ways and wayward- 
ness of the sick ; has learned to anticipate their wishes and cheat them 
of their fears. 



CLARA BARTON. 547 

"Those who have been under her immediate care, will understand 
me when I say there is healing in the touch of her hand, and anodyne 
in the low melody of her voice. In the first year of Mr. Buchanan's 
administration she was hustled out of the Patent Office on a suspicion 
of anti-slavery sentiments. She returned to New England, and devoted 
her time to study and wcjrks of benevolence. In the winter followiuo- 
the election of Mr. Lincoln, she returned to Washington at the solicita- 
tion of her friends there, and would doubtless have been reinstated if 
peace had been maintanied. I happened to see her a day or two after 
the news came that Fort Sumter had been fired on. She was confident, 
even enthusiastic, and ready for her work. 

WILLING TO GIVE ALL TO HER COUNTRY. 

"For herself she had saved a little in time of peace, and she 
intended to devote it and herself to the service of her country and of 
humanity. If war miist be, she neither expected nor desired to come out 
of it with a dollar. If she survived, she could no doubt earn a living ; 
and if she did not, it was no matter. This is actually the substance of 
what she said, and pretty nearly the words — without appearing to sus- 
pect that it was remarkable." 

Three daj'S after Major Anderson had lowered his flag in Charleston 
Harbor, the Sixth Massachusetts Militia started for Washington. Their 
passage through Baltimore, on the 19th of April, 1S61, is a remarkable 
point in our national history. The next day about thirty of the sick 
and wounded were placed in the Washington Infirmary, where the Judi- 
ciary Square Hospital now stands. Miss Barton proceeded promptly to 
the spot to ascertain their condition and afford such voluntary relief as 
might be in her power. Hence, if she was not the first person in the 
country in this noble work, no one could have been more than a few 
hours before her. 

The regiment was quartered at the Capitol, and as those early vol- 
unteers will remember, troops on their first arrival were often very poorly 
provided for. The 21st of April happened to be Sunday. No omnibuses 



548 CLARA RARTON. 

rau that day, and street cars as yet were not ; so she hired five colored 
persons, loaded them with baskets of ready prepared food, and proceeded 
to the Capitol. The freight they bore served as countersign and pass ; 
she entered the Senate Chamber, and distributed her welcome store. 
Many of the soldiers were from her own neighborhood, and as they 
thronged around her, she stood upon the steps to the Vice-Presidents' 
chair and read to them from a paper she had brought, the first written 
history of their departure and their journey. 

SMALL BEGINNINGS OF MILITARY EXPERIENCE. 

These two days were the first small beginnings of her militar}^ expe- 
rience — steps which naturally led to much else. Men wrote home their 
own impressions of what she saw ; and her acts found ready reporters. 
Young soldiers whom she had taught or known as boys a few years 
before, called to see her on their way to the front. Troops were gather- 
ing rapidly, and hospitals — the inevitable shadows of armies — were spring- 
ing up and getting filled. Daily she visited them, bringing to the sick 
news, and delicacies and comforts of her own procuring, and writing letters 
for those who could not write themselves. Mothers and sisters heard of 
her, and begged her to visit this one and that, committing to her care 
letters, socks, jellies and the like. 

Her work and its fame grew week by week, and soon her room, for 
she generally had but one, became sadly encumbered with boxes, and 
barrels and baskets, of the most varied contents. Through the summer 
of 1862, the constant stock she had on hand averaged about five tons. 
The goods were mainly the contributions of liberal individuals, churches 
and sewing-circles to whom she was personally known. But, although 
articles of clothing, lint, bandages, cordials, preserved fruits, liquors, and 
the like might be sent, there was always much which she had to buy 
herself. 

During this period, as in her subsequent labors, she neither sought 
nor received recognition by any department of the Government, by which 
we mean only that she had no acknowledged position, rank, rights or 



CLARA BARTON. 5-10 

duties, was not employed, paid, or compensated iu any way, liad author- 
ity over no one, and was subject to no one's orders. She was simply an 
American lady, mistress of herself and of no one else ; free to stay al 
home, if she had a home, and equally free to go where she pleased, if 
she could procure passports and transportation, which was not always 
an easy matter. From many individual officers, she received most valua- 
ble encouragement and assistance ; from none more than from General 
Rucker, the excellent Chief Quartermaster at Washington, fie fur- 
nished her storage for her supplies when necessary, transportation for 
herself and them, and added to her stores valuable contributions at times 
when the}'^ were most wanted. She herself declares, with generous 
exaggeration, that if she has ever done any good, it has been due to the 
watchful care and kindness of General Rucker. 

HER DUTY NOW AT HOME. 

About the close of iS6i, Miss Barton returned to Massachusetts to 
watch over the declining health of her father, now in his eighty-eighth 
3'ear, and failing fast. In the following March she placed his remains 
in the little cemetery at Oxford, and then returned to Washington and 
to her former labors. But, as the spring and summer campaigns pro- 
gressed, Washington ceased to be the best field for the philanthropist. 
In the hospitals of the Capitol the sick and wounded found shelter, food 
and attendance. Private generosity now centered there ; and the United 
States Sanitary Commission had its ofl&ce and officers there to minister 
to the thousand exceptional wants not provided for by the Army Regu- 
lations. There were other fields where the harvest was plenteous and 
the labors few. 

Yet could she, as a young and not unattractive lady, go with safety 
and propriety among a hundred thousand armed men and tell them that 
no one had sent her ? She would encounter rough soldiers, and camp- 
followers of every nation, and officers of all grades of character ; and 
could she bear herself so wisely and loftily in all trials as to awe the im- 
pertinent, and command the respect of the supercilious, so that she 



550 CLARA BARTON. 

might be free to come and go at her will, and do what should seem good 
to her ? Or, if she failed to maintain a character proof against even 
inneudoes, wonld she not break the bridge over which any successor 
would have to pass ? These questions she pondered, and prayed and 
wept over for months, and has si^oken of the mental conflict as the most 
tr3'ing one of her life. 

She had foreseen and told all these fears to her father; and the old 
man, on his death-bed, advised her to go wherever she felt it a duty to 
go. He reminded her that he himself had been a soldier, and said that 
all true soldiers would respect her. He was naturally a man of great 
benevolence, a member of the Masonic fraternity, of the Degree of 
Royal Arch Masons ; and in his last da3'S he spoke much of the pur- 
poses and noble charities of the Order. She had herself received the 
initiation accorded to the daughters of Royal Arch Masons, and wore on 
her bosom a Masonic emblem, by which she Avas easily recognized by the 
brotherhood, and which subsequently proved a valuable talisman. 

RESOLVES TO GO INTO ACTUAL BATTLE. 

At last she reached the conclusion that it was right for her to go 
amid the actual tumult of battle and shock of armies. And the fact 
that she moved and labored with the principal armies in the North and 
in the South for two years and a half, and that now no one who knows 
her would speak of her without the most profound respect, proves two 
things — that there may be heroism of the highest order in American 
women — and that American armies are not to be judged of by the 
recorded statements concerning European ones. 

Her first tentative efforts at going to the field were cautious and beset 
with difficulties. Through the long Peninsula campaign as. each transport 
brought its load of suffering men, with the mud of the Chickahomiu}- 
and the gore of battle baked hard upon them like the shells of turtles 
she went down each day to the wharves with an ambulance laden with 
dressings and restoratives, and there, amid the turmoil and dirt, and 
under the torrid sun of Washington, toiled day by da}', alleviating such 



CLARA BARTON. 551 

suffering as she could. And when the steamers turned their prows down 
the river, she looked wistfully after them, longing to go to those dread 
shores whence all this misery came. 

But she was alone and unknown, and how could she get the means 
and the permission to go? The military authorities were overworked in 
those da3's and plagued with unreasonable applications, and as a class 
are not very indulgent to unusual requests. The first officer of rank 
who gave her a kind answer was a man who never gave an unkind reply 
without great provocation — Dr. R. H. Coolidgc, Medical Inspector. 
Through him a pass was obtained from Surgeon-General Hammond, and 
she was referred to Alajor Rucker, Quartermaster, for transportation. 
The Major listened to her story so patiently and kindly that she was 
overcome, and sat down and wept. It was then too late in the season to 
go to McClellan's army, so she loaded a railroad car with supplies and 
.started for Culpepper Court-House, then crowded with the wounded 
from the battle of Cedar Mountain and in need of nurses. 

FIRST TO VOLUNTEER AID. 

With a similar carload she was the first of the volunteer aid that 
reached Fairfax Station at the close of the disastrous days that culmi- 
nated in the second Bull Run, and the battle of Chantilly. On these two 
expeditions, and one to Fredericksburg, Miss Barton was accompanied by 
friends, at least one gentleman and a lad}^ in each case, but at last a time 
came, when through the absence or engagements of these, she must go 
alone or not at all. 

On Sunday, the 14th of September, 1S62, she loaded an army wagon 
with supplies and started to follow the march of General McClellan. Her 
only companions were Mr. Cornelius M. Welles, the teacher of the first con- 
traband school in the District of Columbia — a young man of rare talent and 
devotion — and one teamster. She traveled three days along the dusty 
roads of Maryland, buying bread as she went to the extent of her means 
of conveyance, and sleeping in the wagon by night. After dark, on the 
night of the sixteenth, she reached Burnsidc's corps, and found the two 



552 CLARA BARTON. 

armies lying face to face along the opposing ridges of hills that bonnd 
the valley of the Antietam. There had already been heavy skirmishing 
far away on the right where Hooker had forded the creek and taken posi- 
tion on the opposite hills; and the air was dark and thick with fog and 
exhalations, with the smoke of camp-fires and premonitory death. 

There was little sleep that night, and as the morning snn rose bright 
and beantiful over the Blue Ridge and dipped down into the valley, the 
firing cm the right was resumed. Reinforcements soon began to move 
along the rear to Hooker's support. Thinking the place of danger was 
the place of duty, Miss Barton ordered her mules to be harnessed and 
took her place in the swift train of artiller}- that was passing. On reach- 
ing the scene of action they turned into a field of tall corn, and drove 
through it into a large barn. The}- were close upon the line of battle; 
the enemy's shot and shell flew thickly around and over them; and in 
the barnyard and among the corn lay torn and bleeding men — the worst 
cases — just brought from the places where they had fallen. The army 
medical supplies had not yet arrived, the small stock of dressings 
was exhausted, and the surgeons were trying to make bandages of com 

husks. 

RENDERS HELP TO THE SURGEONS. 

Miss Barton opened to them her stock of dressings, and proceeded 
with her companions to distribute bread steeped in wine to the wounded 
and fainting. In the course of the da}^ she picked up twenty-five men who 
had come to the rear with the wounded, and set them to work adminis- 
tering restoratives, bringing and applying water, lifting men to easier 
positions, stopping hemorrhages, etc., etc. At length her bread was all 
spent; but luckily a part of the liquors she had brought were found to 
have been packed in meal, which suggested the idea of making gruel. 
A farm house was found connected with the barn, and on searching the 
cellar, she discovered three barrels of flour, and a bag of salt which the 
enem}^ had hidden the day before. Kettles were found about the house, 
and she prepared to make gruel on a large scale, which was carried in 
buckets and distributed along the line for miles. 



CLARA BARTON. 553 

On the ample piazza of the house were ranged the operating tables, 
where the surgeons performed their operations; and on that piazza she 
kept her place from the forenoon till nightfall, mixing gruel and direct- 
ing her assistants, under the fire of one of the greatest and fiercest battles 
of modern times. Before night her face was as black as a negro's, and 
her lips and throat parched with the sulphurous smoke of battle. But 
night came at last, and the wearied armies lay down on the ground to 
rest; and the dead and wounded lay everywhere. Darkness, too, had its 
terrors; and as the niglit closed in, the surgeon in charge at the old farm 
house, looked despairingly at a bit of candle and said it was the only one 
on the place; and no one could stir till morning. 

A THOUSAND DANGEROUSLY WOUNDED. 

A thousand men dangerousl}^ wounded and suffering terribly from 
thirst lay around, and many must die before the light of another day. 
It was a fearful thing to die alone and in the dark, and no one could 
move among the wounded, for fear of stumbling over them. Miss Barton 
replied, that, profiting by her experience at Chantilly, she had brought 
witli her thirty lanterns, and an abundance of candles. It was worth a 
journey to Antietam, to light the gloom of tliat night. On the morrow 
the fighting had ceased, but the work of caring for the wounded was 
resumed and continued all day. On the third day the regular supplies 
arrived; and Miss Barton having exhausted her small stores, and finding 
that continued fatigue and watching were bringing on a fever, turned 
her course towards Washington. 

It was with difficulty that she was able to reach home, where she 
was confined to her bed for some time. When she recovered sufficiently 
to call on Colonel Rucker, and told him that with. five wagons she c; uld 
have taken supplies sufficient for the immediate wants of all the wounded, 
that officer shed tears, and charged her to ask for enough next time. 

It was about the 23d of October, when another great battle was 
expected, that she next set out with a well appointed and heavily laden 
train of six wagons and an ambulance, with seven teamsters, and thirty- 



654 CLARA BARTON. 

eight mules. The men were rough fellows, little used or disposed to be 
commanded by a woman ; and they mutinied when they had gone but a 
few miles. A plain statement of the course she should pursue in case of 
insubordination, induced them to proceed and confine themselves, for the 
time being, to imprecations and grumbling. When she overtook the 
army, it was crossing the Potomac, below Harper's Ferry. Her men 
refused to cross. She offered them the alternative to go forward peaceabl}^, 
or to be dismissed and replaced b}^ soldiers. They chose the former, and 
from that day forward were all obedience, fidelity and usefulness. 

HURRYING TOWARD RICHMOND. 

The expected battle was not fought, but gave place to a race for 
Richmond. The army of the Potomac had the advantage in regard to 
distance, keeping for a time along the base of the Blue Ridge, while the 
enemy followed the course of the Shenandoah. There was naturally a 
skirmish at every gap. The enemy were generally the first to gain 
possession of the pass, from which they would attempt to surprise some 
part of the army that was passing, and capture a portion of our supply 
trains. Thus every day brought a battle or a skirmish, and its acces- 
sion to the list of sick and wounded ; and for a period of about three 
weeks, until Warrenton Junction was reached, the National army had no 
base of operations, nor any reinforcements or supplies. The sick had to 
be carried all that time over the rough roads in wagons or ambulances. 

Miss Barton with her wagon train accompanied the Ninth Army 
Corps, as a general purveyor for the sick. Her original supply of com- 
forts was very considerable, and her men contrived to add to it every day 
such fresh provisions as could be gathered from the country. At each 
night's encampment, they lighted their fires and prepared fresh food and 
necessaries for the moving hospital. Through all that long and painful 
march from Harper's Ferry to Fredericksburg, those wagons consti- 
tuted the hospital larder and kitchen for all the sick within reach, etc. 

It will be remembered that after Burnside assumed command of the 
Army of the Potomac, the route by Fredericksburg was selected, and the 



CLARA BARTON. 555 

march was conducted down the left bauk of the Rappahannock to a 
position opposite that city. From Warrenton Junction Miss Barton 
made a visit to Washington, while her wagons kept on with the army, 
which she rejoined with fresh supplies at Falmouth. She remained in 
camp until after the unsuccessfiil attack on the works behind Fredericks- 
burg. She was on the bank of the river in front of the Lacy House, 
within easy rifle shot range of the enemy, at the time of the attack of 
the nth of December — witnessed the unavailing attempts to la\' pontoon 
bridges directly into the city, and the heroic crossing of the 19th and 
20th Massachusetts Regiments and the ytli ^Michigan. 

ORGANIZED HOSPITAL KITCHENS. 

During the brief occupation of the city, she remained in it organiz- 
ing the hospital kitchens ; and after the withdrawal of the troops, she 
established a private kitchen for suppU'ing delicacies to the wounded. 
Although it was now winter, and the weather inclement, she occupied 
an old tent while her train was encamped around ; and the cooking was 
performed in the open air. When the wounded were recovered by flag 
of truce, fifty of them were brought to her camp at night. They had 
lain several daj-s in the cold, and were wounded, famished and frozen. 
She had the snow cleaned away, large fires built and the men wrapped 
in blankets. An old chimney was torn down, the bricks heated in the 
fire, and placed around them. The result was that they slept comfort- 
ably until morning, when the medical ofl&cers took them in charge. 

A circumstance which occurred during the battle of Fredericksburg, 
will illustrate very strikingly the courage of Miss Barton, a courage 
which has never faltered in the presence of danger, when what she 
believed to be duty called. In the skirmishing of the 12th of December, 
the day preceding the great and disastrous battle, a part of the Union 
troops had crossed over to Fredericksburg, and after a brief fight had 
driven back a body of the enemj', wounding and capturing a number of 
them, whom they sent as prisoners aci'oss the river to Falmouth, where 
Miss Barton as yet had her camp. Tlie wounded Confederates were 



55G CLARA BARTON. 

brought to her for care and treatment. Among them was a j'oung 
officer, mortally wounded by a shot in the thigh. Though slie could 
not save his life, she ministered to him as well as she could, partially 
staunching his wound, quenching his raging thirst, and endeavoring to 
make his condition as comfortable as possible. 

MESSAGE FROM A MEDICAL DIRECTOR. 

Just at this time, an orderly arrived with a message from the Medical 
Director of the Ninth Army Corps requesting her to come over to Fred- 
ericksburg, and organize the hospitals and diet kitchens for the corps. 
The wounded officer heard the request, and beckoning to her, for he was 
too weak to speak aloud, he whispered a request that she would not go. 
She replied that she must do so ; that her duty to the corps to which 
she was attached required it. 

"Lady," replied the wounded man, "you have been very kind to me. 
You could not save mj^ life, but 3^ou have endeavored to render death 
eas}^ I owe it to you to tell you what a few hours ago I would have died 
sooner than have revealed. The whole arrangement of the Confederate 
troops and artillery is intended as a trap for your people. Every street 
and lane of the city is covered by our cannon. They are now concealed 
and do not reply to the bombardment of your arm}^, because they wish 
to entice you across. When your entire army has reached the other 
side of the Rappahannock and attempts to move along the streets, they 
will find Fredericksburg only a slaughter pen, and not a regiment of 
them will escape. Do not go over, for you will go to certain death ! " 

While her tender sensibilities prevented her from adding to the 
suffering of the dying man, by not apparently heeding his warning, 
Miss Barton did not on account of it forego for an instant her intention 
of sharing the fortunes of the Ninth Corps on the other side of the 
river. The poor fellow was almost gone, and waiting only to close his 
eyes on all earthly objects, she crossed on the frail bridge, and was wel- 
comed with cheers b}^ the Ninth Corps, who looked upon her as their 
guardian angel. She remained with them until the evening of their 



CLARA BARTON. 557 

master!}' retreat, aud until the wounded men of the corps in the hospitals 
were all safely across. 

While she was in Fredericksburg, after the battle of the 13th, some 
soldiers of the corps who had been roving about the city, came to her 
quarters bringing with great difficulty a large aud very costly aud elegant 
carpet. "What is this for?" asked Miss Barton. "It is for you, 
ma'am," said one of the soldiers ; " you have been so good to lis, that we 
wanted to bring you something." " Where did you get it? " she asked. 
"Oh ! ma'am, we confiscated it," said the soldiers. " No ! no ! " said the 
lady ; " that will never do. Governments confiscate. Soldiers, when the}' 
take such things, steal. I am afraid, my men, yoii will have to take it 
back to the house from which you took it. I can't receive a stolen 
carpet." The men looked sheepish enough, but they shouldered the 
carpet and carried it back to the place from which it came. 

TOILED ON AND INFUSED HOPE AND CHEERFULNESS. 

In the wearisome weeks that followed the Fredricksburg disaster, 
when there was not the excitement of a coming battle, and the wounded, 
whether detained in the hospitals around Falmouth or forwarded through 
the deep mud to the hospital trausports on the Potomac, still with sad- 
dened countenances and depressed spirits, looked forward to a dreary 
future. Miss Barton toiled on, infusing hope and cheerfulness into sad 
hearts, and bringing the consolations of religion to her aid, pointed 
them to the only true source of hope and comfort. She was more than 
a nurse to the body ; she spoke words of consolation. 

In the early days of April, 1S63, Miss Barton went to the South 
.with the expectation of being present at the combined land and naval 
attack on Charleston. She reached the wharf at Hilton Head on the 
afternoon of the 7th, in time to hear the crack of Sumter's guns, as they 
opened in broadside on Dupont's fleet. That memorable assault accom- 
plished nothing, unless it might be to ascertain that Charleston could 
not be taken by water. The expedition returned to Hilton Head, and a 
period of inactivity followed, enlivened only by unimportant raids. 



558 CLARA BARTON. 

newspaper correspondence, and tlie small quarrels that natnrallj^ arise 
in au unemployed army. 

Later in the season, Miss Barton accompanied the Gilmore and 
Dahlgreu expedition, and was present at nearl}- all the niilitaiy opera- 
tions on James, Folly and Morris Islands. The ground occupied on the 
latter by the army during the long siege of Fort Wagner, was the low 
sandhills forming the seaboard of the island. No tree, shrub or weed 
grew there; and the only shelter was light tents without floors. The 
light sand that jaelded to the tread, the walker sinking to the ankles at 
almost every step, glistened in the sun, and burned the feet like parti- 
cles of fire, and as the ocean winds swept it, it darkened the air and filled 
the eyes and nostrils, causing great discomfort. 

EXPOSED TO STORM AND BURNING SUN. 

There was no defense against it, and every wound speedil}^ became 
covered with a concrete of gore and sand. Tent pins would not hold in 
the treacherous sand, every vigorous blast from the sea overturned the 
tents, leaving the occupants exposed to the storm or the torrid sun. It 
was here, under the fire of the heaviest of the enemy's batteries, that 
Miss Barton spent the most trying part of the summer. Her employ- 
ment was, with three or four men detailed to assist her, to boil water in 
the lee of a sandhill, to wash the wounds of the men who were dailj^ 
struck by shot, to prepare tea and coffee, and various dishes made from 
dried fruits, farina, and desiccated milk and eggs. 

On the 19th of July, when the great night assault was made on 
Wagner, and everybody expected to find rest and refreshments within 
the fortress, she alone, so far as we can learn, kept up her fires and 
preparations. She alone had anything suitable to offer the wounded 
and exhausted men who streamed back from the repulse, and covered 
the sandhills like a flight of locusts. 

Through all the long bombardment that followed, until Sumter was 
reduced, and Wagner and Gregg were captured, amid the scorching sun 
and the prevalence of prostrating diseases, though herself more than 



CLARA RARTON. 559 

nuce struck dowu with illness, she remained ut her post, a most fearless 
and efficient co-worker with the indefatigable agent of the Sanitary 
Commission, Dr. M. AI. Alarsh, in saving the lives and promoting the 
liealth of the soldiers of the Union army. "How could you," said a 
friend to her subsequently, ''how could you expose vour life and health 
to that deadly heat?" "Why," she answered, evidently without a 
thought of the heroism of the answer, "the other ladies thought they 
could not endure the climate, and as I knew somebody must take care of 
the soldiers, I went." It was a characteristic repl}^ 

AGAIN ON DUTY IN WASHINGTON. 

In January, 1864, Miss Barton returned to the North, and after 
spending four or five weeks iu visiting her friends and recruiting her 
wasted strength, again took up her position at Washington, and com- 
menced making preparations for the coming campaign, which from 
observatiou, she was convinced would be the fiercest and most destruc- 
tive of human life of any of the war. The first week of the campaign 
found her at the secondary base of the army at Belle Plain, and thence 
with the great army of the wounded she moved to Fredericksburg. 
Extensive as had been her preparations, and wide as was the circle of 
friends who had entrusted to her the means of solace and healing, the 
slaughter had been so terrific that she found her supplies nearly ex- 
hausted, and for the first time during the war was compelled to appeal 
for further supplies to her friends at the North, expending in the mean- 
time freely, as she had done all along, of her own private means for the 
succor of the poor wounded soldiers. 

Moving on to Port Royal, and thence to the James River, she pre- 
sently became attached to the Army of the James, where General Butler, 
at the instance of his Chief Medical Director, Surgeon McCormick, 
acknowledging her past services, and appreciating her abilities, gave her 
a recognized position, which greatly enhanced her usefulness, and 
enabled her, with her energetic nature, to contribute as much to the 
welfare and comfort of the army iu that year, as she had been able to dp 



5G0 CLARA BARTON. 

ill all lier previous connection with it. In January, 1865, she returned 
to Washington, where she was detained from the front for nearly two 
months by the illness and death of a brother and nephew, and did not 
again join the army in the field. 

By this time, of course, she was very generally known, and the 
circle of her correspondence was wide. Her influence in high official 
quarters was supposed to be considerable, and she was in the daily 
receipt of inquiries and applications of various kinds, in particular in 
regard to the fate of men believed to have been confined in Southern 
prisons. The great number of letters received of this class, led her to 
decide to spend some months at Annapolis, among the camps and records 
of paroled and exchanged prisoners, for the purpose of answering the 
inquires of friends and supplying them with information. 

PLAN APPROVED BY PRESIDENT LINCOLN. 

Her plan of operation was approved by President Lincoln, Alarch 
II, 1S65, and notice of her appointment as " General Correspondent for 
the Friends of Paroled Prisoners " was published in the newspapers 
extensively, bringing in a torrent of inquiries and letters from wives, 
parents. State officials, agencies, the Sanitary Commission and the 
Christian Commission. On reaching Annapolis, she encountered 
obstacles that were vexatious, time-wasting, and, in fact, insupportable. 
Without rank, rights or authority credited by law, the officials there 
were at a loss how to receive her. 

The town was so crowded that she could find no private lodgings, 
and had to force herself as a scarce welcome guest upon someone for a 
few days, while her baggage stood out in the snow. Nearly two months 
were consumed in negotiations before an order was obtained from the 
War Department to the effect that the militar}? authorities at Annapolis 
might allow her the use of a tent and its furniture, and a moderate sup- 
ply of postage stamps. This was not mandatory, but permissive ; and 
negotiations could now be opened with the gentlemen at Annapolis. 

In the meantime, the President had been assassinated, Richmond 



CLARA BARTON. 5(il 

taken, and Lee's army surrendered. All prisoners were to be released 

from parole, and sent home, and nothing would remain in Annapolis but 

the records. Unfortnnateh- these proved to be of very little service — 

but a small percentage of those inquired for, were found on the rolls ; 

and obviously these, for the most part, were not men who had been lost, 

but who had retni-ned. She was also informed, on good authority, that 

a large number of prisoners had been exchanged without roll or record 

and that some rolls were so fraudulent and incorrect, as to be worthless. 

Poor wretches in the prisons seemed even to forget the names their 

mothers called them. The Annapolis scheme was therefore abandoned, 

with mortification that thousands of letters had lain so long unanswered, 

that thousands of anxious friends were daily waiting for tidings of their 

loved and lost. The pathos and simplicity of these letters was often 

touching. 

INQUIRIES FROM ANXIOUS FRIENDS. 

An old man writes that he has two sons and three grandsons in the 
army, and of two of the five he could get no tidings. Another says she 
knew her son was brave, and if he died, he died honorably. He was all 
she had and she gave him freely to the conntr}'. If he be really lost she 
will not repine ; but she feels she has a right to be told what became of 
liim. Many of the writers seemed to have a very primitive idea of the 
way information was to be picked up. They imagined that Miss Barton 
was to walk through all hospitals, camps, armies and prisons, and 
narrowly scrutinizing every face, would be able to identify the lost boy 
by the descriptions given her. Hence the fond mother minutely described 
her boy as he remained graven on her memory on the day of his 
departure. 

The result of these delays was the organization, by Miss Barton, at 
her own cost, of a Bureau of Records of Missing Men of the Armies of the 
United States, at Washington. Here she collected all rolls of prisoners^ 
hospital records, and records of burials in the prisons and elsewhere, and 
at short intervals published Rolls of Missing Men, which, by the franks 
of some of her friends among the members of Congress, were sent to all 

36 



•562 CLARA BARTON. 

parts of the United States, and posted iu prominent places, and in many 
instances copied into local papers. The method adopted for the discovery 
of information concerning these missing men, and the commnnication of 
that information to their friends who had made inquiries concerning them 
ma}- be thus illustrated. 

A Mrs. James, of Kennebunk, Maine, has seen a notice in the paper 
that Miss Clara Barton of Washington will receive inquiries from friends 
of" missing men of the Arm}-," and will endeavor to obtain information 
f )r them without fee or reward. She forthwith writes to Miss Barton 
that she is anxious to gain tidings of her husband, Eli James, vSergeant 
Company F, Fourth Maine Infantry, who has not been heard of since 
the battle of . This letter, when received, is immediately acknowl- 
edged, registered in a book, endorsed and filed away for convenient 
reference. The answer satisfied Mrs. James for the time, that her letter 
was not lost and that some attention is given to her inquiry. If the fate 
of Sergeant James is known or can be learned from the official rolls the 
information is sent at once. Otherwise the case lies over until there are 
enough to form a roll, which will probablv be within a few weeks. 

TRYING TO FIND MISSING MEN. 

A roll of Missing Men is then made up — with an appeal for informa- 
tion respecting them, of which from twenty thousand to thirty thousand 
copies are printed to be posted all over the United States, in all places 
where soldiers are most likely to congregate. It is not impossible, that 
in say two weeks' time, one James Miller, of Keokuk, Iowa, writes that 
he has seen the name of his friend James posted for information; that 

he found him lying on the ground, at the battle of mortally 

wounded with a fragment of shell ; that he, James, gave the writer a few 
articles from about his person, and a brief message to his wife and 
children, whom he is now unable to find ; that the national troops fell 
back from that portion of the field leaving the dead within the enemy's 
lines, who consequently were never reported. 

When this letter is received it is also registered in a book, endorsed 



CLARA BARTON. 503 

and filed, and a summary of its contents is sent to Mrs. James, with 
the intimation that further particulars of interest to her can be learned by 
addressing James Miller, of Keokuk, Iowa. 

Soon after entering fully upon this work in Washington, and having 
obtained the rolls of the prison hospitals of Wilmington, Salisbury, 
Florence, Charleston, and other prisons of the South, Miss Barton ascer- 
tained that Dorrance Atwater, a young Connecticut soldier, who had been 
a prisoner at Andersonville, Georgia, had succeeded in obtaining a copy 
of all the records of interments in that field of death, during his employ- 
ment in the hospital there, and that he could identify the graves of most 
of the thirteen thousand who had died there. 

HEADBOARDS ON GRAVES OF SOLDIERS. 

Atwater was induced to permit Government officers to copy his roll, 
and on the representation of Miss Barton that no time should be lost in 
putting up head-boards to the graves of the Union soldiers, Captain 
James M. Moore, Assistant Quartermaster, was ordered to proceed to 
Andersonville with 3'oung Atwater and a suitable force, to lay out the 
grounds as a cemetery and place head-boards to the graves ; and Miss 
Barton was requested by the Secretary of War to accompany him. She 
did so, and the grounds were laid out and fenced, and all the graves, 
except about four hundred which could not be identified, were marked 
with suitable head-boards. On their return. Miss Barton resumed her 
duties, and Captain Moore caused Atwater's arrest on the charge of 
having stolen from the Government the list he had loaned them for 
copying, and after a hasty trial b}- court-martial, he was sentenced to 
be imprisoned in the Auburn State Prison for two years and six months. 
The sentence was immediatel}' carried into effect. 

Miss Barton felt that this whole charge, trial and sentence, was 
grossly unjust ; that Atwater had committed no crime, not even a techni- 
cal one, and that he ought to be relieved from imprisonment. She 
accordingly exerted herself to have the case brought before the President. 
This was done ; and in part through the influence of General Benjamiii 



5CA CLARA l^ARTON. 

F. Butler, an order was sent on to the warden of the Auburn Prison to 
set the prisoner at liberty. Atwater subsequently published his roll of 
the Andersonville dead, to which ]\Iiss Barton prefixed a narrative of the 
expedition to Andersonville. 

Her Bureau had by this time become an institution of great and 
indispensable importance not only to the friends of missing men but to 
tlie Sanitary Commission, and to the Government itself, which could not 
without daily and almost hourl\' reference to her records settle tl;e 
accounts for bounties, back pay, and pensions. Thus far, however, it 
had been sustained wholly at her own cost, and in this and other labors 
for the soldiers she had expended her entire private fortune of eight or 
ten thousand dollars. Soon after the assembling of Congress, Hon. 
Henry Wilson, of Massachusetts, who had always been her firm friend, 
moved an appropriation of fifteen thousand dollars to remunerate her for 
past expenditure, and enable her to maintain the Bureau of Records of 
Missing Men, which had proved of such service. To the honor of Con- 
gress it should be said, that the appropriation passed both houses by a 
unanimous vote, a tribute to a worthy woman. 

MISS BARTONS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 

In person Miss Barton is about of medium height, her form and 
figure indicating great powers of endurance. Though not technically 
beautiful, her dark expressive eye is attractive, and she possesses, evi- 
dently unconsciously to herself, great powers of fascination. Her voice 
is soft, low, and of extraordinar}' sweetness of tone. As we have said 
she is modest, c^uiet and retiring in manner, and is extremel}- reticent in 
speaking of anything she has done, while she is ever ready to bestow the 
full meed of pi-aise on the labors of others. Her devotion to her work 
has been remarkable, and her organizing abilities are unsurpassed among 
her own sex and equalled by very few among the other. 

In 1869, she went to Geneva, and there first heard of the Red Cross 
Society, which had been founded b}^ Durraut about 1S64. In the Franco- 
Prussian war, she did efficient service for the Red Cross. The German 



CLARA BARTON. 5C.5 

Emperor gave her the Iron Cross. lu 18S2, she succeeded in getting 
this country to sign the Geneva convention. Her work as head of the 
Red Cross Society in aiding the Johnstown flood sufferers and vi the 
Spanish war has added to her reputation as a philanthropist. 

In May, 1903, Miss Barton paid a visit to Philadelphia and was wel- 
comed with the respect and consideration due to her distinguished career. 
Over a thousand persons attended a public reception tendered to her, 
and greeted her with every demonstration of affection. 

HARRIET F. HAWLEY. 

Among the many thousands of patriotic women, during our Civil 
War, who earnestly desired, from the first moment of the great struggle, 
to take such part in it as a woman might, whose whole soul was in the 
issues of the conflict, was Mrs. Harriet W. F. Hawley, a native of Guil- 
ford, Connecticut. When Sumter was fired on, her husband, since 
United States Senator for Connecticut, Joseph R. Hawley, was the editor 
of the Hartford Evening Press. He at once laid down his pen, and 
enlisted for the war — the first one enrolled in the first volunteer com- 
pany that was accepted by the State, and became its captain before it 
was on its way to Washington. 

During the first campaign, no opporLunit}' was aftorded Mrs. Hawley 
to participate directly in the glorious work goiug forward, other than 
that given to every woman at home, who laboi'ed in the work of equip- 
ping the soldiers for the field, and forwarding to them such comforts as 
were indispensable to the sick and wounded, thus helping to care for 
our brave men at the front. 

Indeed, it was not supposed by Mrs. Hawley's friends that she would 
ever be able to do anything more than home work in the war. With a 
slight frame, a constitution not strong, health never firm, an organization 
delicate and nervous, she seemed entirely unfitted to endure hardships. 
But an indomitable spirit continually urged; and in the fall of 1862, her 
long-hoped-for opportunity came. Her husband was in the Department 
of the South, and in November, she obtained permission to go to Beau- 



566 HARRIET F. HAWLEY. 

fort, South Carolina, with the intention of teaching the cohered people, 
whose first cry in freedom was for the primer. 

But circumstances, and the necessities of the sick and wounded 
soldiers, directed her into another field of labor, in which she continued, 
with little intermission, until the war ended. She became a regular 
visitor at the hospitals in Beaufort. Of her services here, and the like 
at other places, it is not necessar}' to speak in detail ; we all know the 
nature of the duties of the noble women who devoted themselves to hos- 
pital work. 

AT THE REGIMENTAL HOSPITALS. 

In Januar}-, 1S63, she went to Fernandina, Florida, where her hus- 
band — ^then colonel, afterwards brevet major-general, and since governor 
of Connecticut — was placed in command. Here, and afterwards at St. 
Augustine, she was a regular visitor of the post and regimental liospitals, 
remaining xintil November, when she rejoined her husband on St. 
Helena Island, South Carolina, to which he had returned from the siege 
of Charleston. During the winter, frequently, and as often as her 
strength would permit, she visited the post hospital at vSt. Helena, aud 
the general hospitals at Beaufort aud Hilton Head, especially exerting 
herself when the ship-loads of wounded men arrived, after the battle of 
Olustee, in February. 

In April, 1S64, when the Tenth army corps went north to join 
Butler's expedition up the James, greatly desirous to be near the regi- 
ment and brigade of her husband, in the individual welfare of the men 
composing which her sympathies were strongly enlisted, she endeavored 
to procure a situation as attendant or nurse at Chesapeake Hospital, to 
which the woimded of that expedition were likely to be sent. 

Failing to do so she went to Washington, and was placed in charge 
of a ward in Armory Square Hospital. This hospital v.-as at that time 
one of the most arduous places of labor in the countrj', besides being, 
from its low situation, subject to malarious diseases. Standing near the 
Potomac, it usually received the most severely wounded, who arrived by 
boat from below and could not be moved far. 



HARRIET F. HAWLEY. 5(37 

Mrs. Hawley reached there the morning after tlie wounded began to 
arrive from the battles of the Wilderness. Her ward was in the armory 
itself; it was always large, and for a time contained more patients than 
any other — ninety-seven during those dreadful April days. To add to 
the horrors of her ward, it had no separate operating room, and surgical 
operations were necessarily performed within it. The poor fellows who 
arrived there, the mutilated wrecks of that fierce campaign, were so 
exhausted by their marching before, and by the loug journey after they 
were wounded, that they died very rapidly. One day forty-eight were 
carried out of the hospital, dying, with singular regularity, about one in 
every half hour. The entire hospital was calculated to accommodate 
about nine hundred, but it was made to take in over fourteen hundred for 
a time. 

HARDSHIPS SHE WAS COMPELLED TO ENDURE. 

Surrounded by such scenes, a daily witness of the results of the 
terrible Virginia campaign of 1864, Mrs. Hawley lived in this hospital, 
in charge of the ward assigned her, for four months; months of the 
severest labor, taxing her utmost strength; and drawing upon her 
deepest sympathies, and that, too, in a climate peculiarly tr3'ing to a 
Northerner. 

In September her overtaxed energies gave wa}', and she was forced, 
by illness, to relinquish her charge. She returned, however, to the same 
ward in November, and remained in the hospital until March, 1865. The 
writer visited this hospital in the May following, and found Mrs. Haw- 
ley's name a cherished one there, many a poor fellow, lying on his wear}- 
bed, speaking of her kindness and devotion with beaming face and tears 
in his eyes. 

After the capture of Wilmington, Brigadier-General Hawley was 
assigned to the command of the southwest portion of North Carolina; head- 
quarters at that city. Thither Mrs. Hawley followed him shortly, and 
there encountered new horrors of the war of which she had already so 
much sad experience. When Wilmington surrendered, it was in a 
shockingly filthy condition, destitute of supplies, of medicines, of comforts 



568 HARRIET F. HAWLEY. 

for the sick. The conquering army which entered it was stripped for 

marching and fighting, and poorly supplied with what the city so shortly 

needed — hospital stores and clothing for the destitute. 

When Mrs. Hawley arrived, nine thousand Union prisoners had just 

been delivered there, recently released from Audersonville and Florence. 

The North remembers in what sorry plight they were, all of them in 

immediate need of food and clothing, and three thousand of them subjects 

of hospital treatment. As if this were not enough, there came also a 

motle}^ crowd of refugees, which had hung upon the skirts of Sherman's 

march — old men, women, and children, white and black, dirt}', ragged 

hungry, helpless. Such a couglomeratiou crowded into the little city — 

never a healthy place — soon bred a pestilence, a sort of jail or typhus 

fever. 

MANY THOUSANDS IN GREAT WANT. 

The medical officers exerted themselves to the utmost ; the Union 
citizens and all good people contributed liberalh' such clothing as thev 
could spare, and what delicacies they had for the sick. But what could 
the}' do to alleviate the suffering of so many thousands ? The fever 
increased in virulence, and those attacked died rapidly. At one time 
there were four thousand sick soldiers, including a few wounded from 
Sherman's army, in the extemporized hospitals of the city, the large 
dwellings and the churches. Supplies could not be obtained, and it was 
some time before even one clean garment could be given to each released 
prisoner ; and meantime disease increased, and deaths multiplied. 

The chief of the medical staff died, and others were seriously sick : 
of five professional lady nurses from the North, three sickened, and two 
died. One of the chaplains died, and another was severely ill ; and among 
the detailed soldier nurses the pestilence was decidedly worse than any 
battle — they died by scores. It is needless to say that Mrs. Hawley 
exerted herself to the utmost to mitigate the sufferings by which she 
was surrounded. She organized the efforts of the women who would 
lend their aid, superintended the making of garments, went among the 
refugees, visited the hospitals, shunning no danger, not even small pox. 



HARRIET F. HAWLEY. 569 

Some idea of the coudition of the town, aud of the labors thrown 
upon the (ew there who were competent to improve it, may l)e gained 
from the following extract from a private letter, written about this time 
by Mrs. Hawley, in the freedom of friendly correspondence, with no 
thought of its publication. She wrote: 

"You know that over nine thousand of our prisoners were delivered 
to us here ; and no human tongue or pen can describe the horrible con- 
dition which they were in. Starving to death, covered with vermin, with 
no clothing but the filthy rags they had worn during their whole impris- 
onment — a period of from five to twenty months ; cramped by long 
sitting in one position, so that they could not straighten their limbs ; 
their feet rotted off! O God ! I cannot even now endure to speak of it. 

LACK OF HOSPITAL ACCOMMODATIONS. 

"Of course, they brought the jail fever with them — it could not be 
otherwise ; j^et they must be fed, and cleansed, and clothed, and cared 
for. There were no hospital accommodations here worth mentioning. 
There were not doctors enough, and those here overworked themselves, 
and caught the fever and died. Buildings of all sorts were converted 
into temporary hospitals, and the nurses (enlisted men) fell sick at the 
rate of fifty a day. 

" The chaplains worked as only Christian men can work ; and they 
sickened, too. Chaplain Baton (Seventh Connecticut volunteers) died, a 
real martyr. Mr. Tiffany (Sixth Connecticut) has barely struggled 
through a most terrible attack of the fever, and is slowly recovering. 
Another, whose name I cannot recall, is still very low, and can hardly be 
expected to live. Three out of the five lad}' nurses sent by Mrs. Dix have 
been ver}' ill, and one, Miss Kimball, died this morning, resigned and 
happy, as such a woman could not fail to be, yet leaving man}' friends 
to mourn for her, and a place here that no one can fill. Such are our 
sad experiences. 

" Dr. Buzzell, the general medical officer, and one who cannot be too 
highly spoken of, both as a man and a physician, died ofthefever lastweek- 



570 HARRIET V. HAWLEY. 

Dr. Palmer has since followed him ; Init the terrible list of those dead 
and still sick of the fever is too long for me to try to write it. It is only 
within the last five days that they have received any hospital supplies ; 
previous to that time many of the sick men were Ij'ing on straw spread 
on the floor, although the Union citizens have given and done all in 
their power. 

''What could a few families do, from their private supplies, towards 
furnishing three thousand nine hundred men with beds and bedding ? 
Besides these, there were the convalescent ones to be clothed. Thank 
God! the vessel that the Sanitar}^ Commission sent came soon, with nine 
thousand shirts and drawers, so thst when I first s:uv them, the}' had at 
least so much in the waj' of clothing. 

MATERIALS HURRIEDLY MADE UP. 

"We got possession of twelve hundred j^ards of cotton cloth and 
a bale of cotton. I called a meeting of the benevolent ladies of the place. 
The Sanitary Commission gave us thread, and in a week's time the 
materials were made up ; one hundred and thirty-eight pillow-cases, one 
hundred and fifty-three pillows, eighty-four bed sacks, and as many 
sheets. And now the hospitals are all tolerably well supplied, that is, 
for battlefield hospitals. 

"Of course many have been sent North— all who were able to go — 
and mau}' have died on the road ; 3'et there are still man}' here. And, 
as if this were not miser}- enough for one poor little city, Sherman sent 
here six thousand refugees — black and white, old men, women, children, 
and babies, with nothing but what they could carry on their backs, or, 
as in a few cases, drag in a little old mule cart. 

" x\nd these poor wretches must be housed and fed, with the city 
already crowded, and the fever spreading among the citizens. It is 
impossible for you to imagine the misery which has stared me in th 
face at every step since I have been here. I can find no words to descriK 
it. Why, this very afternoon I carried food and wine to a woman who 
had been lying sick, for three days, on a little straw in an old wagon, iu 



HARRIET F. HAWLEY. 571 

an open shed, discovered accidentalh' by one of otir officers. Of course 
this is not an every day case, but it is a wonder that it is not. 

" Many of these refugees ha\'e been sent North, and many more will 
be ; but the mere fact of their being thus transported involves a vast 
amount of labor, which must mostly fall upon the soldiers ; and the gar- 
rison here is small, as small as it can be kept, and do the necessary work 
and guard duty. And, besides all this, the city has been shamefully 
neglected for man}- months, and it is fearfull}- dirty, and there is but 
a small number of teams and wagons to do so great an amount of 
scavenger work. 

" It did, and still does, sometimes, look very hopeless here, on all 
sides. You at the North will never be able to conceive or believe the 
true condition of our prisoners. You may see all the pictures, and read 
all the accounts, and believe, or think you believe, every word of them, 
and then you will have but a faint idea. Men have lain on the ground 
here dying, with the vermin literally swarming, in steady paths, up and 
down their bodies, as ants go in lines about their ant-hills. 

A DEPLORABLE CASE. 

"One poor fellow, a sergeant, died in the house of a kind lady here, 
whose limbs were so cramped by long sitting, through weakness, that 
they could not be straightened, even when he died, so that his coffin had 
to be made with the cover shaped like a tent, or house roof, to accommo- 
date his knees. Women were afraid to walk over the plank sidewalks 
where some of the prisoners had been congregated for a little time, through 
fear of vermin. Men who had once been educated and cultivated, with 
fine minds, were reduced to idioc}' — to utter and hopeless imbecility." 

By the arrival of supplies and aid from the North, the exertions of 
the militar}- authorities in cleaning the citv, and the shipment North of 
the prisoners, and many of the sick and wounded, the disease was at 
length subdued, and by the latter part of June, though the town was 
imhealthy, the worst was over. 

In July Mrs. Hawley accompanied her husband to Richmond, the 



572 HARRIET F. HAWLEY. 

latter being appointed chief of staff to ]\Iajor General Terr}', and, qnar- 
tered in the spacions and conifortablv furnished mansion of the fugitive 
chief of the Confederacy, she enjoyed a most needed rest from the labors 
and turmoil of the camp and the hospital. Thus the summer passed, 
and she looked forward to a speedy return home 

But the full price of her presence among the exciting scenes of the 
war was not yet paid. In October, while returning from the battle 
ground at Five Forks, whither she had gone, with an uncle, to find the 
grave of his sou (Captain Parmalee, of the First Connecticut Cavalry), 
the ambulance in which she rode was overturned, and she received an 
injury on her head, which for a long time made her life doubtful. Her 
whole nervous S3'stem sustained an almost irreparable shock, and she 
continued an invalid for many years. 

Such is a brief sketch of one of the many noble women of the 
country who have fought the good fight, sustained b}' a pure patri- 
otism, the story of whose sacrifices will always be sweet and sacred in our 
annals. 

ANNIE E. WHEELER. . 

General Joe Wheeler not onh' went into o;ir war with Spain him- 
self, but his daughter became a prominent member of the Red Cross 
organization and distinguished herself for her noble services in caring 
for the sick and wounded soldiers. She had charge of the Red Cross 
nurses at the Nautical Club Hospital, wSantiago de Cuba, and proved her 
superior qualifications for nursing the sick and ameliorating the suffer- 
ings of the battlefield. 

Clara Barton sa\'s in her Report on Relief Work in Cuba : "While 
we were at Santiago we were joined by Mrs. Fanu}- B. Ward of \\'ash- 
ngtou, D. C; Miss Annie M. Fowler of Springfield, 111., and Aliss Annie 
Wheeler, of Alabama, a daughter of General Joe Wheeler, the celebrated 
and much-liked cavalr}- leader. All of these ladies did splendid work 
in their several fields, and hundreds of soldiers will gratefulh' remember 
their kindlv ministrations." 



annip: k. wheeler. 573 

To show the systematic and efficient manner in wliicli tlie work 
under Miss Wheeler's charge was carried on, we here append an extract 
from the above report, which will also give the reader an insight into the 
methods of the Red Cross throughout the Cuban campaign. 

" The surrender of Santiago having been arranged to take place at 

ten o'clock on the morning of July 17, and Miss Barton being anxious to 

get to that city at the earliest possible moment, knowing full well the 

terrible conditions that existed there, the steamer State of Texas 

steamed down from Siboney that day to the entrance of Santiago Bay. 

Miss Barton sent word to Admiral Sampson that she was ready to go into 

the city whenever he was read)^ to have her; and he answered that he 

would send her a pilot to take her ship in as soon as the channel was 

made safe by the removal of torpedoes that had been planted by the 

Spaniards. 

MISS WHEELERS ARRIVAL AT SANTIAGO. 

" Accordingly about 4.30 in the afternoon a Cuban jDilot came aboard 
the Texas from the flagship New York and we were soon on our 
way to Santiago, where we arrived just before sundown. We came to 
anchor just off the main wharf and Messrs. Elwell and Warner went 
ashore to make arrangements for warehouse room and to engage men 
to unload the ship ou the morrow. 

" Early the next morning the Texas was drawn up beside the 
principal wharf and one hundred Cuban stevedores began the work of 
discharging her. These poor fellows were a sorry looking crowd of 
undersized and half starved men, the effects of their long fast being 
plainl}' visible in their hollow cheeks and thin arms and legs. Many 
women and children were on the wharf ready to sweep up any stray bits 
of meal or beans that might escape from leaky sacks or boxes. 

"As the stores came from the ship they were loaded on hand cars 
and rolled to the laud eud of the wharf, where the)' were placed under 
a large shed and a guard of soldiers was placed over them to keep back 
the hungry people and dogs who hung around like a pack of famished 
wolves. 



574 ANNIE V.. WHEELER. 

' A central committee of citizens was appointed, to wl;om was 
deputed the dut}' of dividing the citj' into districts, and of appointing 
sub-committees of responsible persons to distribute the supplies to the 
needy. All applications for relief from the sub-committees had to be 
approved b}' the general committee, and then brought to the Red Cross 
warehouse, where they were filled in bulk and sent back to the district 
committees for distribution. In this way all confusion was avoided, and 
our headquarters kept comparati\ely free from crowding. 

" By steady work and long hours the cargo of the State of Texas 
was discharged, and she left on her return trip to New York on the fifth 
day after her arrival ; and we were thus left without ;ui3' means of trans- 
portation that we could depend upon in an}' direction, the railroads being 
broken, and there being none but government ships in the harbor. 

RED CROSS ACTING THE GOOD SAMARITAN. 

"The government not having many delicacies for its sick men, 
and such as it had being so hard to get that those in quest of them could 
hardly get their orders filled until their patients had died or recovered, 
it was only natural that they should come to the Red Cross when they 
needed anything of that kind, where it was only necessary to state the 
need and write a requisition to be supplied with anvthing that we had 
in stock. That this privilege was appreciated can be attested by 
hundreds of chaplains, surgeons and officers; and if it was abused in 
rare instances, there is little to complain of when it is remembered how 
many lives were thus saved, and how nianj^ poor fellows were made 
comfortable and happy." 

The Red Cross afforded Miss Wheeler an organization of trained 
nurses through which she could carry on her patriotic and Good-Samar- 
itan work. She went about her duties in a quiet, faithful, self-sacrificing- 
way that showed at once her ability for the undertaking she had in 
charge and her adaptation for the labors that were required. While her 
distinguished father, the hero of many a battlefield, was leading his cav- 
alry and fighting for his country, his gifted daughter was assuaging the. 



ANNIE K. WUKPXRR. 675 

calamities aud horrors of war by her personal devotion to the welfare of 
our suffering heroes. 

Theodore Roosevelt, contrary to all precedent for a subordinate 
of&cer, aud almost in downright disobedience of military rules, demanded 
that our regiments, after the surrender of the Spanish army, should be 
removed to more healthful surroundings on Long Island. Thither Miss 
Wheeler accompanied the soldiers, established another hospital and con- 
tinued her ministrations in behalf of the sick and wounded. Her pres- 
ence in camp was perpetual sunshine, the bright gleam of hope and good 
cheer to the men who found it easy under inspiring helpfulness to bear 
with heroic fortitude their ills and misfortunes. 

Miss Wheeler is a type of many heroines who went to Cuba to afford 
relief to our soldiers in hospital aud camp. These noble women sub- 
mitted to all sorts of annoyances, encountered everv kind of danger 
incident to war, and faced the perils and hazards of climate that our 
brave " boys " might be befriended, and that all might be done for their 
relief which woman's gentle hands and loving ministries could do. 
These ministering spirits are heroines no less than the men are heroes 
who obey their country's call and withstand the shock of battle. 

While we write the names of oiir statesmen, orators, and generals 
high on our nation's historic scroll, let the names stand side by side with 
those of the grand army of women who are worthy of equal honor. 

MARGARET L. CHANLER. 

Miss Margaret Livingston Chanler, independently wealth}', mem- 
ber of the Astor family, and a Red Cross nurse during the Spanish- 
American war, figures prominently in Greater New York as the woman 
in politics and charity. As vice president of the Women's Municipal 
League she occupies an office in the S3mdicate Building overlooking 
City Hall, and this most active j-oung woman keeps in close touch with 
municipal affairs. 

The league takes a sisterly interest in the proper government of the 
city because of the prominent part it took during the last cp-mpaign and 



576 MARGARET L. CHANLER. 

the great influence it exerted on behalf of good governmeut. Not only 
did the members make a house-to-house canvass and buttonhole voters 
to cast their ballots for fusion, but they carried out their sympathy on a 
still more practical line and about two weeks before election day a com- 
r.iittee of the women went before the leaders at the Republican and 
Citizen's Union headquarters with a certified check for $20,000 and turned 
it over to the Campaign Committee with the remark: "Here, gentlemen, is 
a contribution from the women of New York city who desire to see a 
cleaner city administration." 

ASSISTED TO OVERTHROW BAD GOVERNMENT. 

Then, too, they distributed tracts, held meetings and in other ways 
assisted in overthrowing bad government. 

So that the Woman's League has an acknowledged right to keep 
tabs on his Honor the Ma3-or, and to see that his subordinates are per- 
forming their duties properly. Indeed, they even went so far as to ask for 
an office in the City Hall building itself, but when it was explained that 
all the available room was occupied and that the city was compelled to 
rent space in the big skyscraper in the vicinity of the public buildings, 
they withdrew their request. 

Miss Chanler, who has been placed in charge of this bureau, is a 
remarkable product of an ancient and wealthy family. Her standing in 
a social way entitles her to occupy a position far up near the top of the 
"400," and her wealth would enable her to maintain this place in a 
fitting manner. But she does not care for the whirl of social life and her 
mone}' has given her less pleasure than the results obtained by her 
activit}' along lines that are peculiarly her own. 

When a state of war was declared between the United States and 
Spain Miss Chanler at once volunteered to serve as a Red Cross nurse 
without pay. Her offer was accepted and she went to the front with that 
little band of women under Clara Barton. Miss Chanler proved to be a 
capable nurse of wonderful enei^gy, and at the camp of Montauk Point 
she received high praise fur her work. 



MARGARET L. CHANLER. 577 

During the past few years Miss Chanler lias been living quieth^ in 
New York devoting much of her time to settlement work. When she was 
prevailed upon to take charge of the City Hall office of the league, there 
was much rejoicing among her associates for her acceptance carried with 
it the assurance that the work would be well done. 

Miss Chanler is virtually the executive head of women's part in the 
control and government of New York. She receives reports from the 
many branches of the league all over the greater city and acting upon 
these she makes complaints or recommendations to the Mayor, and 
sees to it that they are acted upon. On the whole, it is the most sys- 
•tematic attempt to make women a force in municipal affairs that has ever 
been attempted, and has been attended with success. 

KEEPING AN EYE ON CITY OFFICIALS. 

Speaking of the hopes of the league she said : " The City Hall 
office will be a sort of clearing house for the greater body. We expect 
to have there representatives of all our larger committees who will be 
familiar with the questions which may arise and who can act speedil}-. 
For instance, should a complaint be made that the streets in a part of 
the city were not being cleaned properly the representative of our Com- 
mittee on Streets could present the facts to the Street Cleaning Commis- 
sioner. 

" The Mayor has taken a decided interest in our work and has 
promised to aid us as far as he can. Already, he has made several sug- 
gestions, and we are working upon them at the present time. It ma}- 
interest you to know that the women have taken a great interest in the 
movement to abolish the Park Avenue Railroad tunnel. We sent a 
petition signed by thousands of persons to Albany protesting against 
the use of smoke in the tunnel and we shall continue the fight until the 
unhealthy tunnel is gotten rid of" 

The Women's League, which is made up of many of tlie most promi- 
nent and public-spirited women in New York, has on its roll members 

of distiguished families and persons of education, refinement and tact. 
37 




'^ ^^l^^l^kMm,.^Mk.^amm T ' ^Mllflf^'^ 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 

GRACE DARLING, CAPTAIN 
JAMES AND OTHERS. 

DANGERS ENCOUNTERED BY SAILORS — SHIP- 
WRECKS ON STORMY COASTS— PERILS OF 
MEN AND WOMEN WHO HURRY TO THE 
RESCUE — DEEDS OF SPLENDID COURAGE. 



The accounts of those who risk their own lives to rescue others who 
are in danger from storm and shipwreck, furnish us with some of the 
brightest examples of heroism. Almost everj^ part of the Atlantic coast 
is swept by gales or obscured by fogs at some season of the 3'ear. Our 
government maintains life-saving stations at many ports, but it may 
well be questioned whether these are sufficient in number or properly 
furnished and maintained. 

The salaries paid to the heroic men who man the life-boats and 
sometimes succeed in rescuing scores of persons who otherwise would 
go down to a watery grave, are thought not to be commensurate with 
the hardships and dangers that are encountered. The number of lives 
lost each year is much smaller than it would be except for the noble 
deeds performed by the men who act as life-savers along our shores. 

Even women have made themselves famous, as Grace Darling did, 
by going out in the frail life-boat to save those who were in peril. This 
woman's name is celebrated in the annals of heroism. She was the 
daughter of William Darling, lighthouse-keeper on Lougstone, one of 
the Fame islands, and was born at Bamborough, November 24, 1S15. 

On the morning of September 7, 1838, the Forfarshire, a vessel 
bound from Hull to Dundee, with sixty-three persons on board, struck 

578 



GRACE DARLING. 579 

the Harker's rock, among the Fame islands, and in fifteen minutes 
forty-three persons were drowned. The vessel was seen by Grace Darling 
from the lighthouse at a quarter to five lying broken on the rocks. 

Darling and his daughter agreed that if they could get to her, some 
of the shipwrecked crew would be able to assist them in getting back. 
It was a hazardous undertaking, but if not promptly carried out, all on 
board the ship would be lost. By wonderful skill and strength, they 
brought their boat to where the sufferers, nine in number, crouched, 
expecting every moment would be their last. There was one woman in 
the company, and she was cared for first. 

Besides her, four men were safely taken to Longstone. Two of the 
men returned with Darling, and succeeded in bringing the remainder off 
by nine o'clock in the morning. It was only by the greatest effort that 
the survivors were all saved. The fact that a woman helped to row the 
boat through the boiling surf, struck a note of admiration whenever the 
story was told. The undertaking was a daring one, and was successful!}' 
accomplished. It was one of those deeds which are applauded by the 
public and eulogized. 

The lighthouse at Longstone, solitary and unknown no more, was 
visited by many of the wealthy and the great. Presents, testimonials and 
money were heaped at the feet of Grace Darling, but she did not long 
survive her change of circumstances. She died of consumption, after a 
year's illness, on October 20, 1842, leaving a name that will always be 
associated with the records of the noblest heroism. 

CAPTAIN JOSHUA JAMES. 

i.\s already remarked, among the bravest men, whose valiant deeds 
stand on the pages of history, those who man the life-saving stations 
along our coasts hold a prominent place. We only hear of their 
achievements when the thrilling tale is told of some vessel that has been 
rescued from a watery grave. It has been said repeatedly that the life- 
saving service has never received the recognition from the public which 
it deserves, nor any adequate support by our government. It is difficult 



580 CAPTAIN JOSHUA JAMES. 

to account for this, because the value of the service rendered must be 
apparent to everybod}-. 

The men who push out in their lifeboats to a shattered wreck are 
never sure that they will return. Not only is there an insufficient 
number of men scattered along our coasts, but since they do their work 
in comparative obscurity, there are few to sound their praises. And 3'et 
every year hundreds of lives are saved by these men, who take no account 
of storm or danger when human life is in peril. Persons who happen to 
be present at a life-saving station when the boat with its gallant rescuers 
pushes off on its mission of mercy, can appreciate the wonderful services 
rendered by these men to those who are in peril. 

EQUIPPED FOR SAVING LIFE. 

If you were on a shattered ship, ready to sink at any moment, you 
would hail the sight of a lifeboat coming to your help, and would be apt 
to bestow proper appreciation upon those who had undertaken your 
deliverance. Life-saving stations are furnished with all the means oi 
rescue. Sometimes it is impossible for the lifeboat to reach the ship, but 
a line may be shot over the vessel from the shore, and an apparatus sent 
out by which the passenger or the sailor may be safely landed. As an 
illustration of this mode of rescue take the following from one of our 
prominent journals. 

" A Norwegian vessel named the Esras, of 266 tons register, bound 
from Christiansand to Pamviauf, ran ashore on the Hasboro' sands about 
8 o'clock in the evening. There she la};- the whole night through, at 
the mercy of the howling winds and huge seas, and during the hours of 
darkness her mast went by the board. Next morning she dropped 
anchor and found herself stranded on the Norfolk coast about opposite 
Kast.Runton. Her position was one of peril to the crew, and just before 
6 o'clock the Cromer and Sheringham Rocket Brigades were summoned. 

"The vessel lay at the mercy of huge breakers, and after about two 
hours broke from her moorings and came broadside on the Ruuton beach 
some 500 yards from land. The rocket apparatus was got to work, but 



CAPTAIN JOSHUA JAMES. 681 

at first it failed. At the fiftli attempt the Cromer rocket succeeded in 
reaching the Esras and all the crew were saved. The work of the 
Rocket Brigade 
is deserving of 
the highest com- 
mendation. The 
sight was watch- 
ed with keen in- 
terest by hun- 
dreds of people." 

From a Bos- 
ton journal we 
take the follow- 
ing account of a 
disaster that oc- 
curred on our 
Atlantic coast : 

"The loss of 
twelve lives off 
the treacherous 
shoals of Mono- 
moy is said to be 
the worst disaster 
of its class that 
has occurred 
since the life-sav- 
ing station was 
established. And 
what a magnifi- 
cent service itha LIFE-SAVING APPARATUS AT WORK. 

been and is ; how rich in human achievement, how glorious iu its record 
of daring and sacrifice, how modest in its pretentious and its claims! Its 
field of operations is the angry and tumultuous sea. It is attended by 




582 CAPTAIN JOSHUA JAMES. 

no martial pomp ; it is stimulated by no artificial excitements. Those 
who enlist in it have to rely upon their own stoutness of heart and stead- 
fastness of purpose. 

" They endure almost constant hardships; their life is an almost 
continual struggle with the elements and their battles are always to save 
and never to destroy their fellowmen. When they succeed, as so often 
they do, the names of these heroes are rarely mentioned. The papers 




LIFE BOAT HURRYING TO THE RESCUE. 

tell US that the life-saving station at sucli a point went to the relief of 
the distressed crew. 

" Yet epics have been built upon less than is covered by such a bald 
and bare statement. The casual reader looks upon it all as a matter of 
course. The rescuers have done what they were engaged to do. A 
skirmish in the bush, a successful fight with savages will set his blood 
tingling ; but he looks with indifference upon a battle with angry waves 
through icy waters. His imagination is not kindled by these homely 
exploits, and he goes home to dinner without another thought of the 



CAPTAIN JOSHUA JAMES. .SSS 

terrible struggles and splendid achievements of these devoted men who 
seem to find their reward in doing and not in glory or in gain. 

" It is only when we contemplate totals that we get a truly realizing 
sense of what this service means to our country, to our humanity, and 
to the interests of those who go down to the sea in ships or trust their 
ventures to its fickle mercies. It is a little over thirty years since this 
service was established. In that time it has saved in various portions of 
the country about ninety thousand lives, and property enough to pay 
several times over the cost of maintenance. 

" These 90,000 witnesses have known something of the true wortli 
of these men, and their gratitude to them has doubtless been greater 
than that which they feel toward any other class in the world. The}' 
have known the dangers involved, the bravery and the skill that carried 
them through their perilous duty. The saviors are constantly facing 
dangers which the saved perhaps experience only once in a lifetime. 

GENUINE TYPES OF A NOBLE CLASS. 

"And some of the best and most genuine types of this noble class 
were the men who went down at Monomoy. They knew what thej' had 
to encounter better than anyone else ; but they did not flinch for an 
instant. Whether life or death awaited them they would make the 
attempt, and the men who still survive would face an ec[ual peril to-day 
with as little hesitation should the occasion arise." 

Another journal furnishes an additional account of the same cata.s- 
trophe. The article is appropriately headed : "The Heroes of Monomoy." 
" Monomoy Point, where the sea tragedy occurred, when seven men 
lost their lives in the vain effort to save five, is the most southerly point 
of the mainland of Massachusetts. Just where Cape Cod bends its 
elbow in the Atlantic Ocean surges a splinter of sand just downward, 
and on the lower point is Monomoy Life Saving vStation, all but two of 
the crew of which were drowned trying to save the crews of two barges 
stranded on Shovelful Shoal, three-quarters of a mile from the point. 

" On Monday the weather grew thick. An easterly gale rose, and 



584 CAPTAIN JOSHUA JAMES. 

the men aboard the stranded barges hoisted a signal for help. It was a 
fearful sea, but the men of Mouoraoy knew only the word of duty while 
those signals of distress were flying. The boat was pushed off into the 
hungry sea manned by eight of the nine men at the station, and after 
mastering almost insurmountable difficulties the errand of mercy was 
nearly accomplished, when a cross sea caught the boat and of the thirteen 
men in it only one was left to tell the story. ' Dinner was all ready for 
them,' said the one left at the station. ' The table was set and the coffee 
and soup were hot on the stove. It was my cook week, and while the 
rest of them took the boat out to the barge I had to stay behind and get 
the meals ready. Perhaps that's why I'm here now.' And he continued : 
' There wasn't a braver, a better set of men anywhere on the coast than 
these comrades of mine who have gone. They were friends all — never 
a hard word, never anything out of the way except in jest ; as happv 
a family as you ever saw. The worst night that any one of them had to 
go out in never made any difference in their spirits.' 

CARING FOR THE FAMILIES OF THE HEROES. 

" Boston raised a fund to care for the families of these heroes of 
Monomoy. It soon reached $14,000. But while this is the only material 
comfort that can now be given the bereaved, some other tribute is due 
the men who pnshed oiit their boat into the angry sea and went on an 
errand which to all but one of them meant death. Their names deserve 
to be inscribed among the bravest of heroes who have lost their lives in 
the service of humanity." 

This is the story of Captain Joshua James. It is a simple story, 
yet it is one well worth reading, for it is a narrative of a man known as 
the world's greatest life saver. During his career of seventy-seven years 
it is estimated that over one hundred persons were rescued by him from 
death by drowning. " I shall die with my boots on," he often said, and 
so he did die. One morning Captain James was sending his crew 
through the drill at Point Allerton. 

"Now, the next thing boys," he said, and fell unconscious. Doctors 



CAPTAIN JOSHUA JAMES. 



585 



were hastily sent for, but he had passed away. Heart disease, the doctors 
said, was the cause of death. But these two words by no means express 
the years of watching on the coast by night, the hmely vigils, the plunges 
through the stormj- 
sea, and the daring 
rescues which re- 
quired the expendi- 
ture of life's forces. 
Captain James 
was a well-known 
character in Hull, 
and a man of pic- 
turesque appear- 
ance. He was over 
six feet tall, and he 
was thin, but his 
muscles were like 
steel. The power 
and determination 
expressed in his 
face were not con- 
cealed in the six 
inches of whiskers 
which seemed to be 
his only vanity. He 
was known to all 
seafaring men along 
the Atlantic coast life-savers launching the lifeboat. 

and respected and honored by them. For nearly thirty years he had 
been connected with the life-saving service. At first he had a volun- 
teer crew, but when the Government took charge of this work he was 
made captain by a special act of Congress, as he was many years older 
than the prescribed age. 




586 CAPTAIN JOSHUA JAMES. 

Captain James was born in Hnll. His father, Captain William 
James, a native of Holland, came to this country about 1805. Estliei* 
Dill, his mother, a lineal descendant of the earliest settlers of Plymouth 
County, was noted for her philanthropy and bravery. She was a veritable 
mother to the many men emploj^ed on her husband's vessels. When 
only 44 years old she was accidentally drowned in the whirlpools of Hull 
Gut. One of the noblest acts of bravery ever performed in the life-saving 
service took place at Nantasket Beach, when Captain James and his crew 
rescued the men of the three-masted schooner Ulrica and nearl}- lost 
their own lives in the attempt. 

The storm, which had been raging furioiisly, increased so rapidly 

as to make an attempt to reach port impossible, and Captain Patterson, 

of the Ulrica, decided to stand out in the open sea. About 6 o'clock in 

the morning the Ulrica was off the lightship, and, soon after this 

friendly beacon was sighted, there was a succession of sharp reports as 

the sails were rent from their fastenings and blown awa}- like shreds of 

paper. 

SEAS BREAKING OVER THE VESSEL. 

The seas were breaking over the vessel, and the half-frozen crew 
made preparations to get out the anchors. They were successful in this, 
but the anchors did not hold, and the helpless craft was blown across 
the bay and onto the sands of Nantasket, with her crew powerless to 
save her. The Ulrica struck broadsides on, about 1500 feet off shore, 
just opposite the Kenberma Station, at that part of the beach called 
Strawberry Hill. Immense breakers pounded against her sides like a 
battering ram, and in a few minutes, with a report like a cannon, the 
back of the ship was broken in two. The Ulrica was seen by a bo}- 
named Henry Baker, who sent word to the life-saving station at Stony 
Beach, three miles away. 

Captain James and his crew started for the scene of the wreck on a 
special train, leaving two men to follow with the life-saving gun. When 
they reached Kenberma, hundreds of persons had collected on the beach, 
but they were powerless to aid the imperiled sailors. It looked like 



CAPTAIN JOSHUA JAMES. .'.87 

instant death to face the raging storm. The}- could see the crew of the 
Ulrica in the darkness huddling together on the forward part of the 
vessel. The waves were dashing over them, and now and again some 
one lost his footing and was swept across the deck, but the men whose 
business it was to save life were undaunted. 

They launched their boat in the face of the fierce gale and before 
they could grasp an oar an enormous breaker hurled them back upon 
the beach. A second time were they driven back ; but the third attempt 
was more successful. Slowh' they proceeded toward the Ulrica. Waves 
dashed over them every second, almost exhausting their strength. 
Cheered by the words and spirit of their undaunted captain they had pro- 
ceeded about one hundred and fifty yards, when a gigantic comber struck 
the boat and threw it high iu the air. Captain James lost his balance and 
fell into the roaring waters. The other members of the crew managed 
to retain their seats, but in the next minute they were washed ashore 
5(X) feet from where they started. 

BROUGHT SAFELY TO SHORE. 

The instant the lifeboat struck the sand, every man plunged back 
into the sea to rescue their captain, who was making an awful battle for 
life in the roaring waters, which seemed to engulf him at every instant. 
The scene was memorable. Many of the spectators on the beach were 
so enthused at the sight that they, too, braved the surf to assist the 
life-savers. Captain James was brought safely to shore ; but weak and 
exhausted as he was, directed the firing of the Hunt gun, which at that 
moment had arrived. 

The first shot carried the life line among the rigging near the mast- 
head, so that the men aboard the Ulrica were unable to get near it. 
A second shot was fired, and again the line fell beyond the reach of the 
exhausted and half-frozen sailors. On the third shot the hopeful life 
line dangled again in the upper rigging. A few minutes later, however, 
it fell across the deck, where it was secured by one of the men. 

Unable to mount into the rigging, the poor fellows were obliged tc 



588 CAPTAIN JOSHUA JAMES. 

fasten a hawser on the deck near the anchor chains. This allowed the 
line to the shore to slacken so that it was impossible to work the breeches 
buoy, and it seemed as if the crew must perish. When all hope seemed 
abandoned, Captain James thought of a last plan. The big hawser still 
held secure from shore to ship, and he thought that the lifeboat might 
be pulled out to the doomed vessel by means of this rope. Another rope 




CREW AND PASSENGERS ABANDONING THE WRECK. 

was attached to the stern of the lifeboat, and then the brave fellows 
jumped in to make a last effort to save the crew of the Ulrica. 

Awaiting a favorable opportunity, the lifeboat was pushed off, and 
then every man in her grasped the big cable and pulled with might and 
main. The waves broke over the little band, and the water freezing, 
covered them with ice. But they held on pluckil3^ Slowly and surely 
the boat climbed the mountain waves and descended into green yawning 
chasms, until the side of the stranded vessel was reached. 



MORAL HEROISM. 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

Frances E. Willard—Ellen Stone--Sammv Belnap. 

FIRMNESS FOR THE RIGHT— SACRIFICES FOR PRINCIPLE— LEADERS IN GREAT 
LABORS FOR HUMANITY — CHARACTERISTICS OF MORAL HEROES. 

One of the most ob.serving women of these times is Mrs. Hannah 
Whitall Smith. In writing of Frances E. Willard, this keen-eyed, 
strong-hearted and judicially-minded woman says : "Miss Willard has 
been to me the embodiment of all that is lovely and good and womanly 
and strong and noble and tender in human nature. She is one of God's 
best gifts to the American women of the nineteenth century. She has 
done more to enlarge our sympathies, widen our outlook and develop our 
gifts than any man or an}^ other woman of her time." 

A vast number of the best women of America who have been 
inspired by the genius, cheered and encouraged by the sympathy, made 
wise throiigh her wisdom, and made victorious in the battle of life b}- 
her enthusiastic, unyielding faith, know how true is this estimate of 
Frances E. Willard, who was one of the most remarkable women of this 
wonderful country. 

Her career is evidence of what a gifted, consecrated woman can 
accomplish for the good of her own sex, in fact, for the good of humanity. 
Her mind was cultivated ; her eloquence was admitted by everybody ; 
her sympathies were warm ; her zeal never grew weary, and her success 
was a marvel. 

She was the fourth in a family of five children in the home of Josiah 

Flint Willard and Mary Thompson Hill Willard, and was born on 

Thursday, September 28, 1839, ^^ Churchville, Monroe county. New 

York. Miss Willard's father descended from Major Simon Willard, a 

Puritan of Puritans, who, in 1634, at the age of thirty-one, emigrated 

589 



590 FRANCES E. WILLARD. 

from Kent county, England, to Massachusetts, where he could enjoy his 
religious opinions undisturbed and unquestioned. 

By the roadside in the suburbs of Concord, Massachusetts, may be 
seen a large granite boulder, on which is the following inscription: ''On 
this farm dwelt Simon Willard, one of the founders of Concord, who did 
good service for town and colony for more than forty years." Two pres- 
idents of Harvard University, one pastor of Old South Church, Boston, 
and the architect of Bunker Hill monument were among the immediate 
descendants of Major Willard. The mother of Miss Willard descended 
from a familj'^ in wliose veins ran the best blood of Scotland and New 
England. 

In 1841, at two years of age, little Frank Willard was carried in her 
mother's arms from Churcbville, New York, to Oberlin, Ohio, the family 
making the journey by carriage all the way. When seven years old, in 
1846, the family moved on. Three emigrant wagons constituted the 
Willard procession westward from Oberlin, Ohio, to Forest Home, near 
Janesville, Wisconsin, where "indoors," under the best training of a 
Christian household, and " outdoors " on the prairie, by Rock river side, 
among blossoming orchards, flowering shrubs and widespreading fields 
of wheat and corn, she spent twelve A-ears of her girlhood. 

\A^ILLARD FAMILY GOES WEST. 

At nineteen, in 1858, the Willard family removed to the western 
shore of Lake Michigan, and settled down for a permanent home at 
Evanston, then a flourishing town four j-ears of age, where had been 
located the Northwestern University, the Garrett Biblical Institute, and 
the Northwestern Female College. From 1858, as student, teacher, trav- 
eler, and foremost woman in "every good work" in America, Evanston 
was Miss Willard's home. The student life of this wonderful woman 
began in her very early childhood, when during the Ohio period of her 
residence she came in contact with the spirit of Oberlin, listened to the 
rehearsal of the students' declamations and orations, and was inspired 
by the sermons of President Finney. 



FRANCES E. WILLARD. 591 

At Forest Home, Wisconsin, a home school for the children was 
established, where for five years Frances received instructions from the 
world's best teacher, an intelligent Christian mother, nntil the little dis- 
trict schoolhouse a mile awa}', became to the ambitious girl "a temple 
of learning." In 1857 she became a pupil at the Milwaukee Female 
College, and in 1858 entered the Northwestern Female College, at Evan- 
ston, where, in 1859, she graduated with high honors. 

WISHED TO BECOME A TEACHER. 

Miss Willard's chief ambition during her school days was to become 
a teacher. Within the sixteen years between 1858 and 1874 she was a 
successful teacher in eleven sepai-ate institutions of learning, in six dif- 
ferent localities, and made her impress upon two thousand students who 
to this day rise up and call her blessed, as in their strong manhood and 
womanhood they gratefully remember the school days when Frances E. 
Willard inspired them to be somebody. In 1870 she was chosen Presi- 
dent of the Evauston College for Ladies, which institution was subse- 
quently merged in the Northwestern University. Miss Willard was 
made Professor of Esthetics in the University and Dean of the Faculty. 

In June, 1874, she resigned these positions, the highest yet attained 
by any woman, and forever terminated her calling as a pedagogu.e. She 
turned her head and heart towards a work in which her achievements 
are without a parallel. ' 

Miss Willard from her childhood had been thoughtful on the 
supreme question of life, the Christian religion. She was born in a 
Christian household, and received religions training from the hour she 
could prattle at her mother's knee. She demanded the why, and "how 
do you know?" In her girlhood at Forest Home she was the heartiest, 
I'.appiest, rollicking youth in the neighborhood. Hers was a rarely 
happy existence on the Wisconsin farm, where she could be seen riding 
a horse for the corn-ploughing or galloping a mile away to water the 
steed. She could fight a prairie fire as vigorously as any "hired man." 

She oro-anized her comrades without distinction of sex into two 



692 FRANCES E. WILLARD. 

fighting forces, one of Indians attacking the frontier settlement, the other 
of pale faces resisting the savage. On whichever side Frank Willard 
commanded there was victory. From her outdoor sports and ramblings 
in field and forest she turned to her books, and as eagerly studied as she 
had plaj'ed. She was somewhat averse to being interviewed on the sub- 
ject of religion, but attentively read her Bible and the standard hymns of 
the church. The home song-service stirred her soul more than sermon 
or exhortation. Not until nineteen years of age did Miss Willard give 
her heart to Christ, and her name to the Methodist Episcopal Church, 
but from that glad day she lived a life of rejoicing consecration to God. 
Her father and sisters had all died. Her mother and herself con- 
stituted the Willard household. They were poor as the world estimates 
values, but rich in faith. At thirty-five years of age Miss Willard's 
only deposit from which she was to check for the support of her mother, 
then " three score and ten," and herself was in the words of the Psalmist, 
" Trust in the Lord and do good ; so shalt thou dwell in the land, and 
veril}' thou shalt be fed." 

WOMAN'S TEMPERANCE CRUSADE. 

The Woman's Temperance Crusade, beginning in Ohio in the clos- 
ing days of 1873, had inaugurated the "irrepressible conflict" between 
the home and the saloon, a conflict which will not cease until there shall 
be no legalized dram-shop where floats the Stars and Stripes. The 
movement arrested the attention of Miss Willard, who had been rooted 
and grounded in the total abstinence faith. The crusade stirred her 
soul, and she made a solemn covenant that with God's blessing and 
guidance she would become an active aggressive force against those mon- 
strous evils, the drink habit and the liquor traffic, and would devote her 
every energy to the utter overthrow of the latter as the only cure of the 
former. 

When her cherished plans and purposes as an educator had been 
abandoned, the temperance work in all its departments filled her heart 
head and hands. She immediatel}' visited the Eastern cities and con- 



FRANCES E. VVILLARD. 593 

ferred with the leaders in Gospel temperance work. vShe listened to the 
stirring words of Francis Murphy, who by the grace of God had just 
been transformed from a drunkard to a flaming herald of Gospel tem- 
perance. She sat at the feet of Neal Dow and studied the problem of 
legal prohibition. She received hearty, enthusiastic encouragement from 
Mrs. Mary A. Livermore, who in that day was sowing with her own 
hands the golden grain of which the harvest waveth now. She heard 
Jerry McCauley in Water street tell the story of his redemption. 

MARCHED \\^ITH THE CRUSADERS. 

In Pittsburg she marched with the crusaders, knelt with them on 
pavements and on the sawdust floor of the saloon. She cried aloud to 
God in praver that startled the saloonkeeper and strengthened the 
hearts of her comrades. Her voice led the host in singing " Rock of 
Ages, Cleft for Me," and "Jesus, Lover of M)^ Soul," and a thronging 
multitude in the crowded streets of Pittsburg wondered at what they saw 
and heard. Returning to Chicago she immediately began the work 
she had never for a moment laid down. She rejected many most tempt- 
ing offers of high place at a high salary in educational institutions. 
Instead of happy, peaceful days in one of many professional chairs East 
and West, she enlisted for war against the saloon, and on her banner 
inscribed for "God and Home and Native Land." 

She at once became President of the Woman's Temperance Organi- 
zation in Chicago, and opened the first "headquarters" known to Woman's 
Christian Temperance Union annals. She lived on half rations, frequenth' 
on no rations, and walked many a mile that she might save the five- 
cent fare for the prosecution of her work, or drop a nickel in the hand of 
the drunkard's suffering wife or child. 

At Cleveland, in November, 1874, convened a company of women 

who organized the National Woman's Christian Temperance Union, and 

elected as corresponding secretary thereof Miss Frances E. Willard. 

Ready pen and eloquent words were needed at that hour of the beginning 

of a movement that has filled the whole world with wonder. Miss Willard's 
38 



594 FRANCES K, WILLARD. 

prophetic soul saw the coming conflict and the storms througli which 
they were to pass. 

A resolution written by herself became the tnreshold over which the 
National Woman's Christian Temperance Union stepped into usefulness 
and conquest. It read as follows : " Resolved, That recognizing that our 
cause is and will be contested by mighty, determined and relentless 
forces, we will, trusting in Him who is the Princeof Peace, meet argument 
with argument, misjudgment with patience, denunciation with kindness, 
and all our difficulties and dangers with prayer." Miss Willard con- 
tinued in the office of corresponding secretary until her resignation in 
1877. In committees and conventions, and on many platforms, she 
bravel}^ bore the banner of the Union. 

HELPER IN THE MOODY MEETINGS. 

In the Moody meetings in Chicago and Boston, in 1877, she rendered 
magnificent service. In the latter cit}' she discovered Anna Gordon, 
whom she styled her " Litte Organist." It was a case of "love at first 
sight." Miss Gordon from that very hour was her constant, devoted friend, 
accomplished secretary, and helpful, loving, traveling companion. At 
Indianapolis, in 1879, Miss Willard was elected President of the National 
Woman's Christian Temperanc Union, and was re-elected annually, by 
a substantial!}- unanimous vote, by that most thoroughly intelligent and 
conscientious body of women. In every State and Territory of our 
National Union she traveled in the interest of the Temperance Union. 
Her eloquent pleading in behalf of the homes of this land has stirred 
the hearts of millions. 

A separate and distinct political party, whose corner-stone would be 
the overthrow of the beverage liquor traffic, and whose platform would 
declare for the Ijallot for woman, had been boldly advocated by Miss 
Willard in the earlier 3'ears of her close alliance with the temperance 
cause. In her first annual address as President of the National 
Woman's Christian Temperance Union at its convention in Boston in 
1880, she said, "A horde of ignorant voters committed to the rum 



FRANCES E. WILLARD. 595 

power fastens the dram-shop like a leech on our community; but let the 
Republic take notice that our unions are training an army to offset this 
horde, one which will be the only army of voters specifically educated to 
their duty which has ever yet come up to the help of the Lord against 
the mighty. 

"For slowly, but surely, the reflex influence of this mighty reform, 
born in the church and nurtured at the crusade altars, is educating 
women to the level of the most solemn and ominous ideas : First, that 
they ought to vote ; second, that they ought to vote against the grog- 
shops." That was the skirmish line up to which steadily marched the 
National Woman's Temperance Union and deployed its forces for the 

conflict. 

FOUNDED HOME PROTECTION PARTY. 

'' Home Protection Party " were the musical syllables Miss Willard 
would weave as a name for the "third party " she saw by faith rising to 
ultimate victory. In 1882, she, in Chicago, assisted in the organization 
of the Prohibition Home Protection party. The national political con- 
ventions of 1884 were all mermorialized by the National Woman's 
Christian Temperance Union in behalf of the American home against 
the American saloon. 

Miss Willard presented the memorials in person. She and her good 
cause found no favor in either the Republican, Democratic, or Greenback 
conventions. She finally made a pilgrimage to the Pittsburg convention 
of Prohibitionists, held in July, 1884, to which she had been delegated. 
After her brief address and presentation of the memorial, it was adopted 
by the convention by unanimous uprising. 

Miss Willard was invited b}' the Kansas delegation of the conven- 
tion to nominate in their behalf Governor St. John for the Presidency. 
No other nominating speech in any national political convention of that 
year compared with the eloquent words which gave Kansas' great leader 
the hearty and unanimous nomination of the Prohibition party. 

Miss Willard was one of the five women elected as delegates to the 
General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church which convened 



596 FRANCES E. WILLARD. 

iu the Metropolitan Opera House, in the city of New York, Ma}' i, 1888. 
The admission of women as delegates to the General Conference was the 
subject of the first great debate in that body. The discussion was able 
and in good temper. Upon a pure technicality the women were ruled 
out of that General Conference. 

In October following the General Conference, the National Woman's 
Christian Temperance Union met in the same great opera house for 
their annual convention. Among the more or less distinguished men- 
folk invited by Miss Willard to seats by her side on the platform, and 
by her asked to address the convention, was Dr. J. M. Buckle}', the 
leader in the discussion against the adniission of women to the General 
Conference. She felt no resentment and had no grudges. 

HER LITERARY WORK. 

But few pens were more busy than that held by Miss Willard. Her 
"Glimpses of Fifty Years," is one of the most readable books. In it she 
tells frankly and with fidelity the story of her " Fifty Years of Life." 
The reader of that story will see passing in review the "welcome child," 
the " romping girl," the "happy student," the "young teacher," the 
"tireless traveler," the "temperance organizer," and the " politician and 
advocate of woman's rights." 

" Rest Cottage," at Evanston, Illinois, was the attractive home of 
Miss Willard. In that charming household of women sat Mother 
Willard, serene and joyful at eighty-five. " Rest Cottage" was the 
executive mansion where the presiding genius. Miss Frances E. Willard, 
surrounded by department secretaries, directed movements that will uplift 
humanity the wide world over. 

The Woman's Christian Temperance Union, designated as the 
"Sober, Second Thought " of the woman's crusade against the saloon in 
1874, has, under the masterly leadership of Miss Willard with its numer- 
oTis departments of work, become a powerful organization throughout 
the laud, and is now compassing the globe itself with its benign influences. 
Mrs. Mary A. Ivivermore who had so large a place in the esteem of all 



FRANCES E. WILLARD. 597 

Christian patriotic citizens, said it is "so grand in its aims, so superb in 
its equipment, so phenomenal in its growth, and has done so much for 
women as well as for temperance, that it challenges the attention of 
Christendom and excites the hope of all who are interested in the welfare 
of humanity." 

When the National Council of Women was convened in Washington, 
in March, 1888, for the furtherance of greater unity of thought, sympathy 
and purpose, through an organized movement of women in conserving 
the highest good of the family and the State, and the noble women of 
that great council banded themselves together in a confederation of 
workers committed to the overthrow of all forms of ignorance and injustice, 
and to the application of the golden rule to society, custom and law, Miss 
Willard was chosen President of the National Federation and enlisted 
the organized womanhood of the land in an eflfort for solidarity among 
women workers. 

Miss Willard did with all her might whatsoever she could to hasten 
the coming of Christ's advancing kingdom. No woman or man in America 
had more welcoming doors swung wide open for their coming than IMiss 
Willard, with her Fidus Achates, Anna Gordon. The best homes in this 
land and the lowliest homes were made happier and brighter with their 
presence. 

ELLEN STONE. 

On September 3, 1901, Miss Ellen Stone, an American lady 
missionary working in the Macedonian district of the Turkish Empire, 
was captured by a band of the brigands which infest the Balkan mountain 
ranges. Miss Stone was one of a party of sixteen, of whom fourteen were 
released after being "held up" by the brigands and relieved of their 
valuables. Those released consisted mainly of young native converts. 

Miss Stone and Mrs. Tsilka, a graduate of the Presbyterian hospital 
of New York, but a Bulgarian citizen, so not under the protection of the 
United States, were carried away by the band. Miss Stone is a middle- 
aged lady, but Mrs. Tsilka being young and pretty, it was feared that 
she might be forced to marry one of the brigands as was the case with a 



598 ELLEN STONE. 

young Frenchwoman captured some years ago. The same fate — or death 
— was also reported to have been threatened to Miss Stone if her ransom 
of |i 10,000 was not paid by October 8. 

Large subscriptions were raised in America, but the whole amount 
was not realized bj^ that date, and the fate of Miss Stone was left in 
painful suspense. Several letters were received from Miss Stone, from 
which it appeared that she was fairl}- well treated, but that, owing to the 
brigands being hard pressed by the Turkish and Bulgarian .soldiery, 
she and Mrs. Tsilka, who was expecting a child, had suffered considerably 
through being rushed from one hiding place to another. Mr. C. M. 
Dickinson, United States Consul-General at Constantinople, endeavored 
to obtain Miss Stone's release, but for a long time without avail. 

FOREBODINGS OF A PRINCE. 

A correspondent in the brigand-haunted district wrote fromSamokov 
that such was the disturbance created by the capture of Miss Stone that 
Prince Ferdinand brooded wearily over it as he sat in his solitar}'- studio 
at Sofia, wondering what kind of people these Americans must be, seeing 
that their newspapers threatened to upset his "tin throne" merel}- because 
an elderly lady had been kidnapped. 

The Russian Minister called the American diplomatic agent "an ass" 
because Consul-General Dickinson had higgled about the ransom. The 
American representative made a bosom friend of the consul from Belgrade 
because King Alexander's agent would conceal no secrets calculated to 
injure Bulgaria. 

The Turkish Minister for Foreign Affairs propounded a sum in the 
rule of three : Suppose Turkey has to pay 25,000 Turkish pounds for a 
woman of over fifty summers, a woman who has practically finished her 
life's work, and since according to Mohammedan ideas a man is worth 
four times as much as a woman, how much will Turkey' have to pay for 
a young man kidnapped in the morning of a useful life ? 

Miss Stone is better known throughout Bulgaria than in her native 
State of Massachusetts for she spent twenty-three years in "the peasant 



ELLEN STONE. 



599 



State." In fact, Samokov, where she was the directress of the female 
section of the 
American Insti- 
tute, knows her 
better than 
Chelsea, Mass., 
where she was 
born. 

Miss Stone 
is an excellent 
h o r s e-w o m a n . 
She was thus 
mounted, accom- 
panying a party 
of her Bible teach- 
ers from Banisko 
to Djumia in 
Macedonia, when 
she was captured 
and carried off 1)\ 
fort}^ brigands. 
These "heroes <>! 
the hills" showed 
their chivalry b}- 
taking the two 
best horses be- 
longing to the 
itinerant mission- 
aries and mount- 
ing upon them 
Miss Stone and 
her captive companion, Mrs. Tsilka, thus making provision for them. 

But when they made the women ford a river up to their waists the 




THE KIDNAPPED MISSIONARIES, MISS STONE AND MADAM 
TSILKA, MEETING THEIR RESCUERS. 

After the ransom had been paid, the ladies were brought into the pres- 
ence of the search party. On the left in the background is the Albanian 
who found the kidnapped party in the mountains at Gradachor. 



Gon 



ELLEN STONE. 



Robiu Hoods of the Balkans showed that they are degenerate descendants 
of the chivalrous brigands who firmly believed if they molested a 
defenceless woman they should die in a Turkish prison. They acceded, 
however, to Miss Stone's request when they permitted her to take her 
Bible and umbrella with her. 

A student of Samokov, who was of Miss Stone's party and was 
released the day following the capture, tells a sad story of how the 




RANSOM OF THE MISSIONARIES: MADAM TSILKA MEETING HER HUSBAND. 



brigands robbed him of his savings. He had upon him the money he 
meant to pay for his next term's tuition. The brigands slowly went 
through his pockets and left him penniless. A fellow captive was more 
fortunate. He saved his watch by putting it in his hat. On the very 
first day of their capture the brigands showed the captives a touch of 
savagery by beating out the brains of a Turk with the butt ends of their 
guns. 

The captives were not permitted to look into the faces of their cap- 



ELLKN STONE. 601 

tors, not because of the glory of their countenances, but because the 
brigands held revolvers to their heads and declared they must not do so. 
Miss Mary Haskell, a daughter of the Rev. Dr. Haskell, and professor 
at the American Institute of Samokov, had a nocturnal experience with 
an emissary of Miss Stone's brigands which she will never forget. As 
she slept dreaming of the sad fate of her former teacher, she heard a 
decided knocking at her widow. Quickly rising she saw a young man 
clothed in all the panoply of a brigand's armor. His words were few but 
pointed. They amounted to this : 

" Give this letter to your father. Look not into my face or you are 
a dead woman. Say to your father that if he tells any one except those 
mentioned therein of the contents of this letter I will murder 3-011 all. " 
The brigand toiiched his hat and rode away. 

EFFORTS TO FIND MISS STONE. 

One of the most active and intelligent men who engaged in an effort 
to find Miss Stone is the Rev. Mr. Baird, purser of the American Insti- 
tute at Samokov. He went alone to Djumia and made every effort to get 
into communication with the brigands. Upwards of $70,ch3o were finally 
contributed to secure the release of the missionaries, and the brigands 
agreed to take it and set their captives free. 

A correspondent who followed the American Mission in search of 
Miss Stone, thus describes the arrival of the ransom at Djuma-i-bala as 
follows: "The Commandant and Saaddetdin Bey headed the procession 
on prancing Arab steeds, and they were followed by ten travel-stained 
troopers, a belt of cartridges around each man's waist, and a rifle laid 
across his saddle. Next canie three carriages, ramshackle conveyances, 
all drawn by four horses. 

"The first was closed, but through the dusty windows we saw a pile 
of cases roped and wrapped in sacking. The second carriage contained 
the men who had brought it from Constantinople — the second 
Dragoman of the American Legation and the Deputy American Consul, 
with the Montenegrin Cavasse. The third carriage held Messrs. Guar- 



602 ELLEN STONE. 

joulo and Peet, and beside the driver sat another Cavasse in a gorgeous 
bine and gold uniform. Captain Teffik Bey, the commander of the 
guard, rode alongside, and behind him, iifteen more troopers on jaded 
steeds. As the procession entered the town the side alleys were packed 
with inquisitive women, their yashmaks drawn tight over their faces, the 
children clinging to the ample folds of their trousers. 

"The soldiers walked alongside the cavalcade, talking to their com- 
rades of the escort until an officer ordered them back. At every door and 
window fez tassels trembled with excitement. The clatter of horses' feet 
and the clank of sabres filled the air as the procession groped its way 
through the dark and ill-paved streets of the bazaar." 

A DRAMATIC INCIDENT. 

The same correspondent who went with the party that rescued the 
missionaries related the following: "A dramatic incident occurred on 
the journey from Strumnitza to the railway after the ladies had been 
released. As our cavalcade reached the top of the Chipelli Pass, 
Madame Tsilka's husband suddenU- appeared. A scene of much emo- 
tion followed, as be embraced the wife from whom he had so long been 
separated. He was soon introduced to his seven weeks' old daughter, 
and carried her down the mountain path." 

Miss Stone arrived in America about six months after her capture. 
Her coming was hailed joyfully b}^ the multitude of persons who had 
become deeply interested in her misfortunes. In all religious assemblies 
she received an enthusiastic welcome. In many of our cities she was 
greeted by large audiences, to whom she told in simple but most effective 
language, the story of her hardships and subsequent release from the 
hands of the cut-throats who had carried her away and held her captive 
in the hope of obtaining a large ransom for her release. With unaffected 
manner and graphic details, she deeply interested people everywhere, 
who followed with unabated interest her vivid account of her experiences 
with the band of brigands, from whom it was feared at one time she 
would not be able to escape. 



SAMMY BELNAP. 

Sammy Belnap was a strong young boy of nine when the soldiers 
of the Revolutionary Army came to the township of Redding, Connecti- 
cut, for the winter of 1 778. "Old Put," as everyone called the great fighter. 
General Israel Putnam, had been keeping the tavern over in Brookline 
before the war broke out, but when he came to the "Nutmeg" State, as 
a hardy pioneer, he had settled at Pomfret, and his farm had adjoined 
that of Sammy's grandfather, who had come from Danvers, Massachu- 
setts, with him. 

The famous general was very fond of boys — boys who were brave 
and full of life. He had not forgotten that he was once one himself, 
and we have seen how brave he was when a young man. Sammy was 
just the kind of boy that the old general would like. He was full of life, 
and, alas, full of mischief So, when the general was riding through the 
little village of Redding one afternoon soon after the three camps of the 
Continental soldiers had been established, he saw Sammy and inquired 
if there was not a son of Uriah Belnap living in the village. The gen- 
eral was taking the first few moments of his leisure in looking up his 

old friend. 

ROSY FACE AND SMILING EYES. 

Sammy never forgot the expression of his great rosy face and smil- 
ing eyes, when he answered ; 

" Why, yes, sir ; he was my grandfather, and Samuel Belnap, who 
lives over yonder, is my father." He was almost breathless, for he knew 
the man on horseback, and he had heard a great deal about his bravery 
in the midst of these trying days. But he was reassured at once, for the 
great big general came down from his horse, and sitting on the curb, 
took him in his arras, and began to tell him about his grandfather. 

" I might have known you were Uri Belnap's grandson, if I had 
looked twice," he said, " for you are for all the world just like him, and 
I'll wager he was just like you at your age! Those are your grand- 
father's eyes, and I can see his nose and his mouth in you, and do 3-ou 

603 



004 SAMMY RELNAP. 

know, my sou, I could sit here all the afternoou and tell you about your 

grandfather? He settled on the farm next mine, over 3'onder in Pomfret, 

What would I not give for one hour of those old days ! And did he ever 

tell you about the wolf we hunted for so long ? " 

Sammy's eyes lighted up with pleasure at this. He had hardly 

known how to receive the attention of his distinguished visitor, for he had 

heard much to make him fear him ; but he was entirely won over now. 

He had heard of that famous wolf hunt many times from his grandfather, 

who had died in the Revolutionary cause, when he had gone with General 

Putnam to Bunker Hill, and had spilled his blood in that encounter with 

the British. 

GOOD FIGHTER AT BUNKER HILL. 

"But you must take me to your father, for I want to tell him how 
well your grandfather fought that day in Charlestown ; General Wash- 
ington has let me take my army near my old home for the winter, audit 
will be the first time since the day of that battle I have had to tell Uriah 
Belnap's son how his father fell in the foremost ranks, as fearless and 
brave as man should be in these days — for these are trying times, my 
son. Come, lead my horse up to your home." 

The general sprang into the saddle, and Sammy proudly led his 
guest to the house. When he had grown to manhood he was always 
delighted to tell of that episode in his life, and another to which we 
shall soon allude. 

General Israel Putnam had three companies in the township of Red- 
ding that winter, and he was soon to take up his own quarters on Umpa- 
waug Hill. Historians are sometimes wont to attribute to him acts 
which seem brutal in these days; but we should remember the times in 
which he lived and the dangers of war, which tried him and other men 
most sorely. The traditions which are alive to-day in his old home at 
Brookline, and in the surrounding towns, give us a picture of a kindl}-, 
gruff, hearty old man, who loved his friends and his friends' children, 
and after the war decidedly the most popular landlord in the " Nutmeg " 
State. 



SAMMY BELNAP. 605 

And this is the iiuin Sammy Belnap saw for the first time when he 
was nine years old — the man he learned to worship as all small, genuine 
boys worship heroes, for whom they would sacrifice their lives, if 
need be. 

The Continental army in General Putnam's charge contained many 
discontented and discouraged men that winter. They were poorly clothed 
and poorly fed, and the Connecticut Legislature had not paid them their 
wages for many months. If you should chance to go to Redding to-day 
you will see the places where these revolutionar}- camps stood. The 
sites of the log cabins are clearly defined by heaps of stones, which are 
the remains of the chimneys built on the outside. Their preservation 
has been due in a great degree to a forest, which grew over the spot 
where so many dramatic scenes took place more than a century ago. 
The forest has now been cleared, and the State of Connecticut has pre- 
served the place in a park named for General Putnam. 

LITTLE HERO OF REVOLUTIONARY DAYS. 

Our little hero of revolutionary days became greatly interested in 
the camps, and the general became so fond of him that he at times would 
raise him in his saddle and make the round of the soldiers' quarters. 

" I am going to make you a good soldier like your grandfather," he 
used to say, " and I want yoii to learn all about mj' army, so that 3'ou 
may be a general, too, some day. We little know when this war ma}^ 
end, my boy, in these days of shadow, and if our time does not see the 
victory of liberty, we will train all little boys, so that when they are men 
they will be able to whip the British." 

Sammy's love for the general grew daily. He heard of the men who 
deserted to the camp of the British, and his little face burned with indig- 
nation to see the men who once fought for independence turning in their 
selfishness to what they thought would be the winning side. Often he 
would climb the rocky cliff, which rises to-day, as it did then, high above 
the camp, and watch the soldiers off parade walking about the barracks 
and grounds, standing in groups, in their tattered and mud-stained uni- 



601) SAMMY BP:LNAP. 

forms. How his little heart burned iu eagerness to do something for the 
cause of freedom ! He little dreamed that fate had destined him to be of 
great service to the good old general. 

When spring came and the fresh green was everywhere, and the 
birds began singing, there were not a few of the men who longed to be 
away from the scenes of war, and dreaded to face the hard fighting 
before them. It was a frequent practice of these men to go to the camp 
of the enemy, where they were cordially received, and given good food 
and certain other things which they ought not to have had. As the 
camps of General Putnam were soon to be broken, the deserter was 
especially welcome, as he might furnish valuable information as to the 
future movements of the army. 

HARASSED BY DESERTERS. 

"Old Put" was particularly tried by these deserters, and kept a 
sharp outlook for them. When captured, they generally found their 
fate sealed by a brief court martial, whose verdict was either that they 
be shot or hanged. Sammy listened one evening to the account of a 
man who had sneaked awa}' from camp a few days before and was 
believed to be skulking about the place ; the general further suspected 
that he was in communication with the Tories, and feared that the move- 
ment he had planned for the next week would in this manner be 
known to the enemy. 

Sammy listened with wide-open eyes, and that night he lay awake a 
long time thinking. His visits to the camp had been useful to him, for 
he knew many soldiers by name, and there were more whose faces he 
recalled. Now, he was quite sure he had seen the man in question the 
day before, while he was gathering the spring flowers in the thicket of 
pines, about two hundred rods from the cliff below which was the camp. 
He had been engaged in earnest conversation with another person, 
whose face Sammy had not seen. In a few minutes after Sammy 
appeared, the pair separated, but neither returned to the camp. 

Sammy thought this all over carefully, and went over it again and 



SAMMY BELNAP. 607 

again, making certain plans which he intended to pnt into operation 
very soon. 

It happened that there was a cave near the top of the cliff, which 
extended into the interior for several feet. There were a great many drj^ 
leaves on the bottom, and Sammy often went dnring the hot afternoons 
and sat and dreamed of being a soldier. The cave itself had a history, 
and was named after King Philip, becanse there is a tradition that the 
Indian King Philip had used it as a hiding place when closel}- pursued. 
If you should go there to-day you will find it just as has been described. 
The next day when the army was on the parade ground di-illing, under 
the severe gaze of General Putnam, Sammy denied himself one of the 
greatest pleasures of his life, and hid himself in the cave. Hei'e he 
could dimly hear the sound of the tramping feet, but he was within 
hearing of other sounds which finally came to his expectant ears. 

OVERHEARD A CONVERSATION. 

He heard what appeared to be two men engaged in earnest conversa- 
tion. Sammy listened closely until at last he could distinguish words. 
He listened for fully ten minutes, and, then, as silently as afield mouse, 
he left his perch in the cave on the cliff and slowly descended. All the 
time he could hear the voices of the men, but as he was below the top of 
the cliff he was, of course, not seen. 

When he reached the bottom he crawled carefully along, beneath 
the underbrush. How his heart beat, and how much he longed to run ! 
But he was too wise to do so for fear he would attract the notice of the 
men. So he moved slowly, until he was hidden by a thick growth of 
pines. Then he rose to his feet, and ran with all the speed his little legs 
were equal to. 

All this had taken ten minutes of precious time, although it takes 
hardly one to tell it, and Sammy was afraid he would be too late. He 
ran up to the general as fast as he could, stopped a moment and raised 
his arm in salute just like a real soldiei', then clambered up into the 
saddle, and drew down the general's head and whispered in his ear. 



608 SAMMY BELNAP. 

The general quickly wheeled his horse and rode toward an officer. 
To Sammy's great delight, a small squad of soldiers soon moved in the 
direction of the cliif. How long the minutes seemed after that ! Every 
one was an hour to Sammy, and there were thirty of them before anything 
happened. Then the report of a musket sounded in the distance, followed 
by two more. All was silence for awhile, and the general sat eagerl}^ 
watching the cliff with Sammy in the saddle. 

When the men appeared two of them bore a wounded man between 
them, while the others led a prisoner. Then the soldiers cheered and 
jeered. The two men had been surprised, for their pursuers had gone so 
silently that they were not heard until thev had almost come upon them. 
Then one started to run and had been shot twice in the leg. The latter 
was a British spy and the other the deserter. The old general was 
greatly delighted. He raised Sammy to his feet on the saddle, and the 
soldiers raised their arms in salute, and then cheered the little hero. 

It was the proudest moment of Sammy's life ! That evening, as he 
sat with the general and his father around the great fireplace, "Old Put" 
took him on his knee and said : " Your grandfather is proud of j-ou to- 
night, mj^ son, and hereafter I shall call you one of my soldiers I " 



Q^j. 



